Fanfiction is SO Cliched
by Bittersweet Romanticide
Summary: Cliches are the backbone and life blood of fanfiction, they're what keeps a steady stream of new writers pouring in. Even for veterans of the site, these horrible tropes will catch up to everyone sooner or later. All pairings and most suggestions taken.
1. CPR

Hello, everybody!

This whole thing is really experimental for me. I want to try different styles and, most importantly, I want to see if I can make something original out of all these clichés.

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A little boy, blonde haired and blue eyed and the cutest little thing he had ever seen, tugged on his shirt sleeve and asked, "Are you a Pokémon Master?"

"Uh-huh. I'm here in Cerulean to bust Team Rocket," Ash replied, smiling at the child as Ash settled on the soft, rubber like substance that circled the Cerulean Gym's pool. "See, when you're a Pokémon Master, you get to be a superhero. You run around and beat up bad guys, but you make money from it. It's like being Iron Man."

"Why doesn't Leader Misty call you Master Ash?"

Ash laughed, realizing the kids in Misty's class had never heard the girl referred to as anything other than Leader Misty, and had only heard her address him as Master Ash when she first introduced him to the group. The boy was completely confused by the laughter, and Ash explained, "Because the last time I tried to get her to call me Master she threw the toaster at me."

"Are you married?"

The laughter stopped and the boy blushed. "We're friends."

"Why do you live with her if you're not married?" he insisted.

"I don't _live_ here. I'm visiting. You know, like how you'd visit your grandma."

The boy didn't even hesitate to respond, "My grandma's dead."

Ash face softened. "I'm sorry."

"Her heart 'sploded. I never met her," the boy said calmly, then abruptly changed the subject with, "Do you kiss Leader Misty?"

"No, I don't."

"Do you have sex with-?"

"No!" Ash yelped, face red. "I'm here on business and visiting my friend!"

"Don't yell at the littles, Ash," Misty scolded, walking in with a huge bin of juice boxes. She wore a pair of jean shorts and a bright yellow bikini top. "One for each of you, and, Andrew, I've got milk for you. Your mom says you have to drink that first."

The master gestured wildly at the boy next to him. "He asked if we were having sex!"

"Kids are weird, Ash." She shrugged.

"After talking about his dead grandmother who apparently had an exploding heart!"

She rolled her eyes, passing out the juice boxes as the kids lined up. "Alright, make the kid cry, but _you_ get to deal with his parents when they yell at you. _I've_ learned to pick my battles."

He crossed his arms and pouted. "They probably don't even want to be trainers."

"I want to be an astronaut," said another girl, sipping her juice. "Are you two married?"

"She wants to be an astronaut! Why is she at a gym?"

"So I can teach kids water safety and make myself the pocket change that made your birthday gift an ultra instead of a great ball," she retorted. "Besides, they may be crazy but they're pretty cute."

He frowned. "They talk about _dead_ people."

"Kids are fascinated by death, ugly people, and anything messy, and they have to _loudly_ point them out whenever they see them."

"Are you married?" the little girl pressed.

Misty sighed. "No, Becky, I'm not married."

She took a long draw from her juice box, then swallowed as a little dribbled down her chin. Musically, the little girl taunted, "Do you _like_ him?"

She blushed. "_No_, Becky."

"Then why are you blushing?"

She blushed deeper. "I'm not blushing."

"No," Ash contributed, raising his hand slightly, "you're definitely blushing."

"Not helping, Ash."

He grinned. "Not trying to."

"Alright," Misty clapped her hands, spinning on her heel to the rest of the kids, who seemed much more interested in the pool and their juicebox than the romantic life of their professor. "Who can tell me a water safe-put your hand down, Ash."

"But I know a water safety rule," he argued, beaming in a way he knew would push her buttons.

The redhead gritted her teeth and glared out at the children, "Who can tell me a water safety role?"

"Don't drink the water!" Becky shouted, her chin and chest and bathing suit now sticky with apple juice.

"That's true, but let's name one we talked about," Misty asked. Hands flashed in the air, and she pointed to one in the back. "James?"

"Always know where the side is," he said.

"That's right. When you're in the pool, know where the closest side is so you even got out in a hurry if you have to. What's another one?"

Another kid from somewhere in the middle didn't wait to be called and blurted, "Swim with a buddy."

Misty nodded, back into the easy rhythm of the lesson. "That's right. And if you're in one of the pokemon pools or areas where plenty of pokemon are said to hang out, try to bring at least two or three friends with you. Anything else?"

"Don't bother any pokémon."

"That's right, it could be wild."

"Or it could be training with someone," Ash popped up. "A trained pokémon could be _just_ as dangerous as a wild one."

"That's true" she agreed. "Can anyone think of another one?"

"No rough-hounding, or playing around," Becky chimed.

"Roughhousing, Becky. What's the last one?" Misty said.

"Swim with a buddy!" Becky repeated the previous rule, her hand flailing about in the air.

"Thank you, Becky," Misty sighed. "But I was looking for always have an adult nearby. So, we're going to wrap up the day with what to do when someone drowns."

"If they drown, aren't they dead?" Ash asked. "So shouldn't you buy a coffin? Alert the next of kin?"

"You have to do CPR," another child corrected. "But Leader Misty already told us we're too little."

The boy arched his eyebrow. "So what do you do?"

"Call 911."

"Well, maybe you should know so you can tell someone big what to do in case they drown, because a lot of adults don't know what to do. Probably not a lot of adults in _Cerulean_, but I'm sure at least one of you will do something worthwhile and leave this town."

"Ash," Misty warned.

"I'm not lying! It's not like I said they'd be worthless!" he argued. "I _like _Cerulean, I just think that they should try and-"

She cut him off. "I don't see how you're one to be talking. I traveled with you for years, and I don't think you could read a map, let alone save a drowning person."

"Are you and Master Ash having a lover's spat?" asked the boy who had first tugged on Ash's sleeve.

"We're not lovers, and we're only teasing!"

Ash ignored him and promised, "I could save anyone! I know CPR."

"Well, that's good," she said, sounding unconvinced. "Doubt you're certified."

"_You_ could certify me."

"I don't have the dummies out, and I'm not going to grab one for _your _sake, especially since I have a lesson to teach."

"Misty, they're four. Their job is to call the police. Do you kids know the address?" Immediately, the group recited the address in an almost musical chant. "Look, see? Your brainwashing finally stuck."

She crossed her arms stubbornly. "I don't care. I'm not getting the dummy."

"Lay down, then."

"What?' she gasped, looking appalled.

He giggled. "_You_ be the dummy. Lay down and whenever I'm supposed to breathe I'll say 'breathe' and whenever I'll push down I'll only push a little. I've used the dummy. I know how hard you're supposed to push."

"This is insane!" she cried. "I'm not doing this!"

"I don't care. I just want to prove I can do it."

"No," she snapped. "I'm not letting you hover over me, touching me face and my chest area."

"Come on, Mist! I won't touch anything I'm not supposed to."

Forgetting she was in company of children, she growled, "How would you know? The doll was flat."

"Because you're so much…" he began sarcastically, then laughed nervously and asked, "Kids, wanna see us do CPR?"

"Yeah!" shouted Becky, throwing her hands up.

"See? They want to learn all about CPR."

"Becky has a disorder. The girl would cheer if you told her the world was about to end," Misty retorted.

"Oh, come on," he whined lowly, looking at her with the biggest eyes he could manage. "Certify me!"

She weakened a bit. "Why do you even want to be certified?"

"So I can be sure I'm doing it right and save lives."

"You just want to prove you can do it."

"If I did, that's not a crime."

She sighed, laying on the floor. "Alright, Ash. You walk in the gym and see that I'm lying on the floor, unconscious. What do you do?"

He grinned. "Pikachu, thun-"

"Ash!" she shouted, sitting up quickly, glancing around for the mouse she had forgotten was resting upstairs. "Don't you dare!"

"You asked."

She crossed her arms. "You gonna do this or not?"

"You have to make sure the scene is safe. No rampaging gyarados or loose electrical wires or time bombs. The usual."

"Is the scene safe?" she asked impatiently.

"Unconscious teenage girl in bikini." He chirped, "Don't see anything wrong here."

"_Ash._"

He got to his knees. "So, Misty, are you faking unconscious or are you really dead?"

"I'm really unconscious," she replied.

"I don't think KO'd people talk."

"Ash," she growled, gritting her teeth once more.

"Alright, do you have a mirror on you?

"A _mirror_?" she asked incredulously.

"It's easier to tell if you're breathing that way."

"For the sake of time and my _sanity_, let's say that I'm not."

"Okay." He scooted close to her and picked up her wrist, pressing his two fingers down. "Your heart beats slow, Misty," he said in awe.

"It's called being in shape, tubby."

"You look cute like this," he said with a wink Brock had told him was flirtatious, then laughed as she blushed. "See, _that's _a normal pulse."

"Was that necessary?"

"Hey, it was that or scaring you, and I don't have a bug type on me. So, considering your heart is beating, I really should just breathe for you or check if something is lodged in your throat."

She resisted the urged to slam her head on the floor and knock herself out. "My heart isn't beating, you checked my throat and it's clear, what now?"

"Two deep breaths," he said. "Pinch your nose, tilt your head back, breathe."

"Do everything but the breathing." She sighed.

"Why?"

She sat up a bit. "Do you want your certification or not, Ketchum?"

"Yeah, Ketchum!" Becky encouraged.

"Becky, he's Master Ketchum to you," Misty scolded.

Then he pinched her nose softly and used his other hand to push her chin back, just enough to open her airway. She tried to control her shivers as she felt where the calluses on his hand contrasted with the soft skin of her face, even more so when he whispered, "And then my mouth is supposed to form a seal, so the air can't get out, then I breathe twice and watch to make sure your chest inflates so I know the air is really going in."

She shook him off. "Don't make a boob joke."

"I won't in front of the kids." He gestured at the awestruck children.

Becky leaned over to one of the girls and whispered, "This is more romantic than _Cinderella_!"

"You have weird kids here."

Misty shrugged. "Cerulean's a city of romance. It's the cape up north that does it."

"So, do I do the chest pumps, that I won't joke about because of how extremely mature I am?"

"Have you used a dummy?"

"Yeah."

"How far down do you press?"

"Until it clicks. From here," he posed his body, then leaned forward, "to here."

"And why don't I want you to do that to me?

"Because you don't want me touching you," he deadpanned.

"Medical reason," she deadpanned back.

"I'd snap your ribs."

"Crack. I doubt you'd snap them." She rolled her eyes. "So press lightly, and do the chest pumps in a way that will let me breathe tomorrow."

He swallowed. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"Because I don't want to get hit."

She glared. "Then don't _touch_ anything."

"Not like there's anything to-" He grinned awkwardly again, nothing her anger.

"I'm not feeding you tonight."

"Lace fingers, lock elbows," he said in a rush, then set his hands on her chest. "Then you push."

"Are you allowed to do this is you're not married?"

"Yes," the two said, blushing again.

He pumped at the regular, brisk pace he was supposed to, then sat back and said, "Then two breaths."

"Do it."

"I already did it."

"Do you want your certification or not?" she said exasperated, slamming her fist on the floor.

He crossed his own arms. "I want dinner."

"You're impossible!"

"Fine, cranky." He pinched her nose, tilted her head back, and kissed her.

For a moment her whole body went rigid on the floor, her feet popping off the ground in surprise then, slowly, they fell to rest against the floor, not caring how ridiculous it must have looked for Ash to be holding her nose and kissing her in a room full of small children who were all laughing like a cartoon had pulled a hilarious gag with ended with the character in some physical pain. Well, all except for Becky, who stared at the scene as if witnessing a holy ritual.

Ash pulled away, blushing. "That's a no in front of the kids, huh?"

She sighed, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of her. "Not to mention that is not the proper way to breathe."

"No certification, then?" he asked.

"That's okay!" chirped Becky. "If you fail you just have to practice."

And the blushes returned.

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So, I hope that was a fun twist on the typical CPR story!

All pairings are accepted, and I'm open for suggestions as to what to write next.

Also, I plan on changing my name from Bittersweet Romanticide to Sovereign of Mediocrity.


	2. Jealous

This idea is JEALOUSY, suggested by Judy-Licious.

The pairing is pokeshipping with one sided egoshipping from ruriri.

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**Jealous**

"Ash, you have no idea what you have," Gary said, gawking at the dark haired teen.

The other boy blinked, looking up from under his shoe that he had been thoroughly inspecting. "What?"

"Do you have any idea how many guys would kill to have that redheaded bombshell as their girlfriend?" Gary asked, leaning forward over the table. It seemed as if he was sharing a very, very good secret, and Ash's foot fell to the floor as tried to comprehend the situation. "Ash, I want to steal your girlfriend, and not just because you're dating her, but because I would actually like to get into her pants and stick around until morning."

"Could you…not say stuff like that?" Ash asked awkwardly, looking at his right hand, which appeared to be shaking rather violently on the table. "Because I really want to punch you in the face right now."

"Ash, your girlfriend is a sex bomb. I'm sorry-" the brunette put his hand on Ash's shoulder, as if telling him a great tragedy he needed help to cope with "-but you have to deal with it sooner or later. It's better for you to hear it from a friend."

"We're not friends," Ash argued, shoving his hand off. "You're like a horrible cousin that I'm obligated to like and hang out with, and I don't like it when you say that stuff about Misty."

He nodded sympathetically. "Is it because you haven't gotten in her pants?"

"What?" he screamed, eyes popping open wide.

"I mean, I know you two are really slow. Have you even managed to cop a feel yet?"

Ash's face had gone a strange shade of reddish purple. "I'm not answering that!"

"So, like, I know she's pretty flat, but what's her cup size? Like a B, right? I don't think she's an A."

"I'm not telling you Misty's bra size!" Ash raged, slamming his fists down on the table.

"Is it because you haven't seen them?"

"It's because it's private, you pervert!"

"So you haven't seen them."

"That's it!" Ash shouted, jumping to his feet and grabbing at his belt. "Let's go outside, bring your pokémon!"

"Why?"

"Because you need to shut up!" And because he was fairly certain he couldn't take him in an actual fist fight, but he certainly wasn't about to tell Gary _that_.

"What are you guys yelling about?" Misty muttered, dripping wet from the pool. The saltwater stuck to her cheeks and her red surfer girl bathing suit clung to every curve of her body. Ash suddenly forgot how to breathe, and all the tension he had from the fight with Gary had faded from his body. That happened, sometimes, when she looked pretty. She walked over to him with a grin."You're not ten anymore, youknow."

He knew. "But Gary-"

"Ash, leave him alone. When he does research here at the gym we get a nice bonus, and you remember what I promised some of that money goes to, right?" She smiled a bit and took up his hands, swinging them gently in the air as his face flushed.

"A whole day, right?" he asked eagerly.

"If you're extra good, maybe even a weekend."

"Promise?"

She was his girlfriend, but it still surprised him when she leaned forward and kissed him with so much intensity he was sure the money would be used for a weekend regardless of whether he was good or not. He gave a tiny, happy moan and pushed into her, not caring at all that she was soaking wet and tasted like salt and was horribly sticky because of it. She giggled, pushing away with a startled, "Ash, we have company!"

Ash shrugged, feeling like Gary seeing Misty's lips on his was probably a good thing. "It's alright, Gary can leave."

She wiggled in his grasp, glancing over at Gary and biting her lip sharply. "And I have work."

"Not that much work," he shot back, hands sliding just a bit lower on her waist.

She grinned with a shiver, letting her hands slide up against his chest. "Well, not _that _much work, but I still have work. In the _pool_."

He beamed back. "I _love_ you."

"You should." She kissed his nose. "Patch things up with Gary, though."

He watched her leave, hips swaying purposefully with each step, and was interrupted from his happy staring with, "How the hell did you get something that awesome?"

"Some_one_," Ash retorted, voice dreamy.

"I'll buy her off you."

His happy feelings were gone, and he glared at his old rival. "Gary, what the hell?"

"Newsflash – I'm not the only one. Hey, people want to bang your girlfriend. The girl battles in a bathing suit." Gary shrugged. "Half the guys in the region are dreaming about getting her naked."

"Well, stop!"

He smirked. "Does she scream in bed?"

"Why are you being a jerk?"

And then he sighed, leaning back in his chair and setting his feet up on the table. His lips quirked up in a real smile this time, his eyes just the slightest bit empty as he stared down the hallway Misty had just walked down. "Jealousy isn't pretty on me."

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Thank you for all the feedback on the first chapter!

But I also wanted to point out that this isn't just in the romance category. In fact, it's not really in a category. It's general, because it's meant to be everything. If you know a cliche, romantic or otherwise, I'm very happy to take it.


	3. Instant Annoyance

Suggested by D I N O B O T

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IndigoLeague (dot) gov requests a username and password to enter the instant messaging section. Will you comply?

**Yes** No

Username: Misty

Password: password

Your password is insecure. Would you like to continue?

**Yes, I would like to change my password.** No, I will do it later.

Welcome to the Indigo League, Leader Misty!

Ash is online.

Brock is online.

Erika is online.

Sabrina is-

Chatroom formed! Would you like to invite others to your private chat?

Insert usernames here (separate each new name with a comma): Ash, Brock

Invitation sent.

_Ding!_

"Ash, would you turn off the sound on your computer?"

_Chuckles._

"Sorry. Work email."

**Ash has joined your chatroom! Say hello!**

**Ash**: Thanks for getting me in trouble.

**Misty**: Nice spell check on your computer.

**Ash**: Shut

**Brock has joined your chatroom! Say hello!**

**Ash**: Shut up.

**Brock**: Hit the enter button too early, o' great master?

**Ash**: I'm not an internet wizard.

**Misty**: I noticed.

**Brock**: I noticed.

**Ash**: Oh, look, even online you're in sync when it comes to insults.

**Misty**: You set yourself up for them.

**Ash**: Bet your computer has spellcheck.

**Misty**: Yea, but I still type things out.

**Misty**: *yeah

**Brock**: Yea verily, sir night! I shall slay the dragon!

**Ash**: How do I save this screen, print it, and put it on my wall?

**Misty**: Oh, shut up. I save you from the boring as hell speech. You ought to thank me. I know YOU didn't want to be here.

**Ash**: I was playing Tetris.

**Brock**: I was Googling movie stars.

**Ash**: Pictures?

**Misty**: Google images?

**Brock**: No.

**Ash**: You so are.

**Misty**: What the hell is this meeting about?

**Ash**: Not battling.

**Misty**: Yeah.

**Ash**: Writing an essay, Brock?

**Ash**: Broooooooock.

**Brock**: Fine. It's a complicated breeding thing. I'll spare you the explanation.

**Ash**: That's why you're here.

**Brock**: I'm a leader.

**Misty**: Not acting.

**Brock**: Doesn't matter. Still a leader.

**Ash**: I'm a MASTER.

**Misty**: I noticed.

**Ash**: Leader Misty.

**Misty**: Not going to happen.

**Brock**: Master Ash.

**Misty**: Brock, you're encouraging him.

**Ash:** Thank you, Brock!

**Ash**: *Leader Brock.

**Misty**: Idiot Ash.

**Ash**: Do it!

**Misty**: No way in hell.

_Ruffle of fabric. Frustrated sigh._

"Yes, Master Ash?"

"Ma'am, I have a question."

"Yes, Master Ash?"

"I don't suppose there are legal-"

_Chair thrown back. Stamping foot. Fist slammed on table._

"You can't sue me because I won't call you by your title, you ass!"

**Ash has disconnected.**

"Leader Misty made a chatroom she forced me to join during your talk. I think she should have to wash toilets for her rudeness."

"You're playing Tetris!"

"Nope."

"It's on the chat!"

"I lied in hopes you would leave me alone, Leader Misty."

"I'm not calling you by your title!"

_Loud laughter. Hand slamming on table._

"Leader Misty is extremely childish. Leader Brock, your laughter is only encouraging her."

"Encouraging me? I'd call you a son of a bitch, but I actually like your mother!"

**Brock has disconnected.**

"This made my day."

"I hate you, Brock."

"Leader Brock, Misty. You should show some respect."

_Expanding pokeball._

"I'll show you respect, Mr. Pokemon Master!"

"Was that really so hard?"

_Shriek of anger._

_Computer slammed shut._

**Misty has disconnected.**

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**I'm not going to lie, I have no idea what the cliche stigma is for these types of fics. I see IM in the title or description and I go running. So, I decided to just do it in my own style, give it my own flare, and hopefully me being the fabulous me that I am will be enough to steer me away from the cliche.


	4. Enter the Game

**ENTER THE GAME – Kefka VI**

**Pairing - readerADV

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Ash had said that they needed to talk, and now Annabelle was ready. She sat next to him, feet dipping into the lake softly, the cold doing nothing to ease her tension. She glanced at him, and he stared at her, specifically at her feet, seeming surprised that they were somehow in the water without dissolving. Then he looked away, eyes focusing on the water stretching out in front of him. She tried to remember the last time he had looked her in the eyes, and held the image tightly in her head.

"Are you…?" Ash whispered finally. Then, after a deep swallow and some visible stiffening from her, he continued, "You're…from the game, aren't you?"

"No!" she cried, eyes wide. She turned to him, but he wouldn't turn to her, actively tilting his body away. "I'm supposed to be here!"

"You…you were a side quest," he accused.

"I wasn't," she pleaded. She put her hand on his and he pulled away with a hiss. "I've always been here!"

"It won't change how I feel, Annabelle, but it…it would explain a lot."

"It does make a difference!" she snarled. "Because if it didn't you wouldn't care and you wouldn't ask and-"

His voice was lower when he cut her off. "Alright, so it matters."

"So I'm not. I belong here."

"It doesn't mean I'm going to hate you."

"But you won't-"

He sighed. "Annabelle, you aren't real! You're ones and zeroes."

"So?" she asked weakly.

"So you're a computer program!"

"But I'm sentient."

"How do I know?"

"I'm talking, right?" She swallowed. "We're having a conversation.

"Maybe you're programmed to."

"I'm programmed by people and you're programmed by genes. What difference does it make? It doesn't change how I feel!"

"You're a toy"

"I'm a GIRL."

"You're a plot device!" he shouted, jumping to his feet. "A cardboard cutout to get some extra experience points. I'm a main character. Don't you get it?"

"And we had something special, so what's it matter?" she shouted back, stumbling to her feet as well.

"You had something special," he murmured, putting his back to her. "I'm sorry, but I can't date a…a computer generated character."

"Ash, _please_," she begged. "What…what if yo_u _come back when the show is over?"

Ash shook his head. "I'm sorry, Annabelle, but I don't play the games anymore."

Then he walked away, and she desperately clung to the image of the last time his eyes had looked into hers, instead of straight through her, at what he perceived was nothing but pixels of light, and long strings of code.

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Yes, so, I have a bit of a problem with Annabelle, we all know that. I was let down because I felt that she could have been awesome and really turned out as just a cardboard cut out. As for the cliche, there's a lot of authors somehow tumbling into the games or the show. So, I thought, hey, what if it worked in reverse? And screw the fourth wall! Ash knows he's in a show, and RICH GIRLS DON'T MARRY POOR BOYS.

Twenty awesome points if you get the quote.


	5. Sexy Drew

The suggestion is for a sexy, badass, rich Drew that invades fanfiction so often, (like a strange hybrid of Gary and a Rockafeller, from what I've seen) from **Portsmouth**.

**I chose the pairing for a kick!**

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**Drew sauntered up tot he desk, his hair tumbling over his face and a teasing grin on his face as he leaned over. He noted that the girl working there hardly looked up from her nails as she painted them. Just a quick flick up, then back down to her intense painting as she rattled off a clearly practiced speech: "I'm not Misty, I'm Lily. I don't battle. Misty is in some weird city, right now. I think she's trying to get some guy to bang her, but it's not worth it and it's so not going to happen."

He laughed warmly. "I'm not here for Misty."

"You don't want a badge?" She asked, her voice a little bit strained as she carefully began to paint a design on the nail she was working on.

"No."

She finished with one color and glanced up again. "So…why the fuck you here, kiddo?" she asked, then grabbed the green.

"I heard there was a contest being held here."

She shrugged. "Haven't seen anything on the news."

"Well, it was just a rumor," he retorted. "I decided to check it out. I hopped on a plane and came to Kanto, then flew on Flygon out to here. It's gorgeous, with the mountains just a little far off in the distance and that river."

"Must be nice to be rich," she said, rolling her eyes.

"I guess." He sighed slowly. "I just wish I had someone to share it with."

She snorted, her half painted nails covering her lips as she tried to contain her laughter. "Is this the part where I'm supposed to be impressed?"

"Sorry?" he blinked, surprised at the sudden personality change.

Lily shook her hair, giggled some more, and finally got out: "I'm supposed to gush about how rich and handsome you are and how you're such an amazing coordinator, stroke your ego and a few other things if the night goes really well?"

He blinked. "N-no, It's just-"

"Well, I'm not about to have a ride on your disco stick because you're, what?" She examined his figure closely. "Fifteen? You're not worth the jail time, not like I'd be interested anyway. I'd get some nice stuff, lead you on, then dump you."

"It wasn't!" He cried, acting his age for once. "I just-"

"At the very least, Violet and Daisy would have done it. Me too, if it was a bad day. So count your lucky stars that you caught me on a good day and learn to be a little more observant."

He loked her up at down, trying to think of what he missed. "Observant of what?"

She held up her left hand she had been painting, a gold band with a simple diamond locked securely on it. "My wife doesn't like it when guys hit on me."

"Wife?"

She arched an eyebrow. "Is that a problem?"

"You could have just said you were gay from the beginning," he muttered.

She smirked. "And where's the fun in that?"

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I'm sorry, I just love the imagine of Drew acting all suave and hot, getting shot down, and THEN finding out that the girl never would have been interested no matter what he did! Ha, oh, Drew. I do so love your torture, you green haired beautiful boy, you.


	6. New Girl

The idea is from** Tomoyo Kinomoto, **who suggested the cliche of another girl coming along and Misty getting jealous.

* * *

When Ash turned thirteen, his mother gave him a portable video game system to take on his journey. She told him it was for rainy days, or nights when he was having trouble sleeping. The boy doubted he would use it much, but he thanked his mother nevertheless, kissed her cheek, and went off with the game in hand, a game which he wouldn't touch for weeks. At least, not until the storm came. Then, trapped in the Pokemon Center with nothing to do, Ash pulled out the game and flicked it on, thus starting all the trouble.

"What's your name?" the machine asked, showing him a picture of a rather sexy girl, leaning forward and flashing her cartoon cleavage off.

Ash punched in his name.

"A-S-H? Ash? Is that right?" He clicked yes. "Ash! Pleased to meet you! Your name is very weird, you know that? I'm Aphrodite, and I've been selected as your patron goddess in this game. What do you think of my name?"

Ash clicked the button saying he thought it was weird, because he did, and the picture on screen changed to the same sexy girl, now with her arms crossed and a dainty pout across her full, anime looking features. "Well, so is yours! Is that anyway to talk to your patron goddess? Don't you want me help?"

Ash clicked the sorry button, not because he was sorry, but because it was the only button he could press. The girl on screen responded by sheering up, standing straight to flash her navel and long legs at him and said, "Very well. You'll have my blessing on you mission! But first, you have to wake up!"

His character did. He carried on through that world with very little trouble. He was some kind of farmer who ran around with a pitchfork and stabbed strange looking monsters that all had Greek names. He wasn't especially fond of it considering his normal life was much more exciting, but it was awfully addictive. He also liked the victory song and the sound effects when he leveled up, and he was always eager to see Aphrodite, though he wasn't quite sure why.

"Who are you?" Misty asked, laying down on the bed with him. She had long exhausted her entertainment outlets, and decided that Ash, if nothing else, would be good for an argument or two.

He didn't look her way. "The one that's winning." He hoped he was winning. He had no idea. The game did not tell him the other team' life points.

"And how-"

"Shh!" he said, raising the volume as Aphrodite appeared.

"Oh, great hero. You are one step closer to defeating those wicked Spartans! You are my Chosen, and the reward will be great if you do."

He grinned, looking back at her. "What were you saying?"

She was not grinning. In fact, she was frowning in a way that made his grin shrivel up. "What'd you cut me off for?"

"So I could hear her."

"Her?" she yelped, sitting up. "It!"

"What?"

"It's not a her! It's a game, Ash. She's not real and…" She crossed her arms, looking a lot like Aphrodite had done before. "…And you could have paused it, couldn't you?"

"I guess." He shrugged.

"Then why didn't you?"

"I wanted to hear her."

Her jaw dropped. "Over _me_?"

He rolled his eyes. "You sound surprised."

Bright scarlet with rage she leaned forward and flipped the switch. The game went off without a sound, seeming rather anticlimactic considering how much effort he had put into it. He yelled, because he hadn't saved in a while because he was new to video games and you never needed to save in real life, but she ignored him and stormed off, muttering curses at him and his stupid machine and swearing to get her revenge on the mind controlling machinery.

They were in found herself without trapped inside the next day, and Misty once again without entertainment, and turned to Ash. "You're playing that dumb thing again?"

"It's not _dumb_," he retorted.

"Video games rot your mind."

"Good," he muttered. "I want my brain to rot."

"You don't even have a brain."

"You know what you don't have?" he shouted. "You don't have a game!"

"So?"

"So there!"

"That's right, so what? I don't care about your stupid game!" she shrieked. "You can play it until your thumbs bleed and all your fingers fall off, so there!"

He stuck out his tongue. "Then why do you want me to stop?"

"I don't! I want you to walk into a tree and die with that stupid game! Good riddance to your stupid face!"

"But you just said-"

"Just turn the sound off. I hate that dumb voice."

"It's a cool voice."

She glared. "Wouldn't you rather hear a real girl's voice?"

"But you're the only girl here," Ash muttered.

The next morning Ash had "lost" his game system.

A week later Misty "accidentally" dropped a bottle of perfume labeled Aphrodite on the floor, and quite clearly ground her foot into the shattered glass as she summoned the nearest employee.


	7. Dad

**This is the origins of Ash's father being discovered, from D I N O B O T

* * *

**

It was a beautiful night. There wasn't a cloud in sight, and the stars shined so bright that only the moon bested them. Ash Ketchum, age ten, was the only one out as he strode out of the Pokemon Center, down the stone steps and out to the nearest payphone. He thought it was weird that no one was out on a night like this, but that was an excuse. He flipped a coin in his hand for a moment, enjoying the right that would soon be ruined, because flipping that coin and hoping it would fall to the ground and be lost forever was an excuse too. Then he pushed the cold metal into the slot and dialed the number he had seemed to always know.

"Ash," the man said curtly.

"Why is Team Rocket following me?" Ash asked, meeting his father's eyes coldly. "I know Pikachu isn't that special."

Giovanni's shoulders slumped in relief, and he sighed. "Where are you right now, Ash?"

"You answer my question first," he said, gripping the green plastic tight.

"Your mother is worried."

"Mom knows where I am. _You _don't. Why is Team Rocket following me?"

The man shrugged, leaning into his big chair, his persian's head resting in his lap. "I didn't ask them to, if that's what you think."

Ash snorted. "They're _your_ people."

"They were on a scouting mission. They're practically freelancers, Ash." The man waved his hands airily, and Ash noticed that he was on speaker. He let that fuel his anger, his glared deepening as Giovanni continued, "I didn't send them after you. I would have chosen better people to follow you if I had."

"Because I can't take care of myself?"

"I never said that."

"You implied it," Ash retorted.

"You're putting words in my mouth."

"You _implied_ it."

"Ash, would you stop?" he snapped, sitting up swiftly. The cat leapt back, teeth bared and fur fluffed along his back, then slunk off with a swish of its powerful tail.

"Call them off."

"Be happy for the experience. They're practice."

"You sent them."

"I didn't."

"Call them off!" he shouted.

"Not if you doing the things I've heard."

Ash froze. "What have you heard?"

"The Viridian Center."

"So?" he asked stiffly. "I didn't do anything."

"I paid for that center, Ash."

"And now it's rubble thanks to _your_ men, not my fault. I was defending myself. Maybe if you claimed me they'd leave me alone and I wouldn't have that problem. Here you thought about that, Dad?" The word was spat against the screen so hard it seemed to knock him back to his chair, letting his arms sink into his lap.

"Ash, I have no problems with you being my son," he whispered.

"Yeah, that's what the check is for, right?"

"It's not just a check."

"Right. It's a _big_ check."

He shook his head. "Ash, please."

"I don't want you as my dad, but I'm a great son."

"You are, I never said otherwise."

"You're a horrible dad," he muttered.

"You're being ridiculous."

"Why are your men following me?"

"You're travelling with a boy and a girl. A girl, Ash?"

He stiffened again. "So?"

"She's pretty, and you Pikachu does look healthy."

"Misty's not pretty and she's stalking me anyway!"

"Misty?" he repeated. He leaned forward and pressed a button on his desk, speaking clearly into the mike: "Thomas, run a search on Misty. Red hair, white skin, looks around ten. I can't see the eyes in this picture."

"Don't search my friends!" Ash cried.

"I'm checking on you, that's all."

"Brock's the Pewter Gym Leader, he wants to be a breeder, he takes care of his kid siblings, that's it. You don't need to a run a search."

The button was pressed again. "Do a search on Pewter Gym's Brock as well."

Ash grit his teeth. "Want to know if I'm changing my underwear?"

"That's your mother's job."

"I want your men _off_ me."

"And I want you to follow my footsteps."

"You abuse pokemon."

"I know, I'm not proud of it, but there are sacrifices to be made, Ash. You know that. You know how hard I try to avoid it but sometimes these things just have to be done. You have no idea the kind of politics that are running around the League, Ash. You're traveling with Gym Leaders. Why don't you ask that girl how many times she's gotten marriage proposals at ten? From grown _men_, Ash. Men my age. Ask Brock how many of those kids his mother _had _to have because the League was looking for a certain genotype."

The boy started shaking, no longer looking at the screen. "No more Rockets."

"Do you want your mother to calm down? She'll call you every day if I don't give her reports."

"Better than the guys you have on me."

"Ash, I've been there in every way I could, ever since the moment I discovered your mother's pregnancy. I was there when you were born, when you were sick. I want you to follow in my footsteps, I do, but if I can't have that, all I want it for you to be healthy and happy."

The boy looked close to tears, and his voice cracked as he whispered a "goodbye" and slammed the phone down. He wiped his big brown eyes, and held back his sobs, and he left the moon and the stars being as pretty as they wanted. They would see him crumble, and be serious, and be scared. The sun would see him smile.

The sun _did _see him smile.

* * *

I like this relationship between Ash and his dad. I think I'll use it again!


	8. The Dance

**FTEcho4 gave me the suggestion of two people going to the dance as friends, and coming back as lovers.**

**Oh, and too addicted to fiction suggested a holiday. This TOTALLY counts! ;)  
**

Well...it's a dance. And they came as friends. And left as lovers. Technically.

**

* * *

**

"Our man!" Gary cheered out, thrusting his drink into the air. "Victor in the Indigo League, one step close to mastery! Our summer king this year, now that he's finally back in town for a damn festival."

The crowd laughed, and Ash ducked his head, wishing he could run back to the house and hide under his sheets, but Gary's arm was heavy around his shoulder and he was pretty sure that his anything-that-moves sexually orientated friend was going to do something that would leave him feeling awkward, no matter how much he hid. He was proven right when Gary kissed his cheek, his stubble scratching across Ash's still smooth never shaven skin. "So, who will you dance with?"

He blushed. "Uh, do I have to?"

The crowd laughed again, Gary's deep laugh vibrating through his arm and down through Ash's spine. "Of course you do, Ash! It's good for the crops and it'll help you be fertile – that's having lots of babies through sex, Ashy, if you didn't know - for the coming year. So pick a lucky lady!"

Gary pushed him into the crowd, and Ash instantly found himself face to face with the other girl they pushed out. Her red hair fell to her shoulders without the slightest trace of a curl or volume to it. Her face was clear of any and all make up, and the dress she wore was little more than a dull grass green tube. He was the same way, though he was dressed in brown and he got to wear pants. It was an earth festival, after all. Everything had to be natural during an earth festival.

"Do you know who you're choosing?" Misty asked, as if the crowd hadn't cleared a circle for them.

He smiled weakly in return. "Would you like to dance with me?"

"There are prettier girls here."

"Were your sisters even the festival queen?" he asked.

"All of them." She laughed a little, jealously flashing in her bright green eyes. "Daisy twice."

"Were you?"

"I don't really like dancing," she said, her voice not wavering and almost no pause between his statement and hers. Somehow, that proved she was lying more than it didn't.

He took her hand. "You deserve a turn, right?"

She looked around. "There are better dancers."

"That's alright. I don't want kids this year anyway."

The crowd laughed, and they jumped at the sound, but Misty finally nodded. "I'll do it. As long as this isn't a pity dance."

"It's not a pity dance."

A few girls cooed over the line, giggling at the duo as they took up each other's hands. The music picked up, and though it was a basic, repetitive step, it was quick paced song, a flurry of fast touches and whipping feet that made a heart pump and allowed for complete focus on the partner. They barely touched the ground, barely touched each other. One second their hands were on waists, the next they slid up and held their hands above their heads and twisted. Their faces flushed from the rush of it, and because of what it meant.

Because when the dance ended, he pulled her close and kissed her. He kissed away the spring and kissed in the summer so the heat flushed across them and their pulses pumped with the thrill of the changing season. His hands cupped either side of her face and her fingers tangled in his loose shirt as she kissed him back, just as hard.

The citizens of Pallet broke to cheers and Misty grinned. "Thank you."

"I didn't choose you to make you happy," he retorted.

"What's that mean?"

"It means the dance is over, and I don't care."

And he kissed her again, feeling not the changing of a season but the thrill of having a love returned.

Right up until Gary tried to join them.

That ruined things a bit.

* * *

And for all of those who follow Hero, hopefully it will be up tomorrow or the day after!


	9. Obligatory High School Drabble

ReaderADV has selected high school, and I have had THIS started in my hard drive for a while no. So I brushed it up, fixed it all the way I wanted to, and let it loose. Welcome to the high school chapter, kiddos!

* * *

Misty was almost positive she didn't like the book. She wasn't completely sure she didn't like it, because something in her quite enjoyed it. She liked Peter and Tinkerbell and the lost boys, thought the book had its funny parts and hadn't exactly dragged through the book. Maybe it was because it was all so familiar. Who had grown up without once hearing of the infamous Peter Pan? Not her, and not anyone she had ever heard of. She just thought the whole thing was a little childish to be reading in her senior year.

"I love Peter Pan!"

"Hi, Ash," she sighed, lowering the book. "Did you ever read it?"

"Saw the play, which basically is the book, so, yeah. I read it without reading it."

"It's not exactly Disney's version.

"_To die would be an awfully great adventure!_" Ash chimed, settling down next to her in the summer sun. They laid out on the lawn on the side of the hill, the after school sports starting up in the background with a loud crack of a baseball bat. "I guess almost dying isn't Disney approved. Unless you're a girl…hey, why didn't they put that in there? Tiger Lily practically drowned and you saw it too! Why not Peter?"

She rolled on her side to look at him, smiling at his company. "Because it doesn't make any sense. If you spend too much time trying to dumb yourself down for the children, you inevitably become dumb and then not only do your movies become dumb but you keep trying to dumb them down because you think you're still smart and then most of your stuff becomes pop culture crap."

"Tell me another story, one with an ending as merry as this one," he sighed dreamily, stretching his arms and legs out wide.

"I don't know why I hate it. I can't find anything wrong with it. There's no real _reason_ for me to hate it. It's interesting and it's an easy read. I've been begging for a break." She snapped the book closed and let it flop into the grass. "I'm happy to have a break! What's wrong with me?"

"That's a really big list. Where to begin, where to begin?" he joked. "Maybe you're just so rebellious you can't stand liking a book a teacher gave you to read."

"That's not true. I liked _To Kill a Mockingbird. _It was really deep."

"I liked that Scout was just trying to tell you how her brother broke her arm. That's the whole book. She didn't think about the prejudice and death and stuff, she just wanted to tell her how her brother broke his arm. Great story."

"Ash, that's not the point of the book."

"Sure, it's not the theme, but it's the plot."

"I bet you could get through English honors."

"They'd kick me out for being a smartass."

"They haven't kicked me out," she argued. "You'd do well, Ash. I really think you would. It just sucks that I don't have any classes with you."

"We have lunch and that's the only one we'd ever talk in anyways so it's really the only one that matters."

"It's nice to have you in other classes, though," she protested.

"Why? So you can stare at me longingly across the room." He laughed.

"No!" she cried, blushing. "Of course not! It's just…we've always had so many classes together. It's weird to not be able to look over and see you. It's…it's nice to have you there is as my friend. Nothing wrong with that."

"Except for being clingy."

"Dammit, Ash! Can't you be serious for once?"

"When I was growing up," he said in a drastic change of subject. "I always wanted to be Peter Pan."

"What?"

"You said get serious, so I'm being serious. When I was little what I wanted most in the whole wide world was to never grow up to be a kid forever."

Misty rolled her eyes. "Some people would argue your wish came true."

"They'd be wrong. I was never Peter. He was everything I wanted to be. He went on adventures and never got older and be never lost what makes a kid a kid. I never wanted to, but somewhere down the line I grew up." He sat up now, hugging his knees. "I never went on adventures or did anything worth doing. Sometimes I think that if I lived somewhere else, in some other world, I could have gone on adventures as a kid. I could have been something great, I bet. I could have been that world's Peter Pan."

"Why can't you be this world's Peter?" she asked with a shrug.

"You're not allowed to be Peter here. You have to grow up. There's no Neverland to run off to, there's no adventures, there's no room for children, only little adults. I was just born into the wrong place." He sighed. "I think I could have been a Peter, if I'd been born in the right place."

"But then you never would have met me," she complained. "Do you know how much that would suck? Life would be so boring if you weren't here!"

"You and Brock would be in that world with me. We're the perfect trio, the perfect team. We'd end up together somehow."

"I'm not cut out for adventures," she giggled. "What kind of explorer would I make?"

"I think you'd make a great adventurer."

"Stop. I would not."

"Would too," he said as he smacked her back.

Soon the playful snaps turned into a giggling wrestling match, Ash and Misty each shouting, "would not!" and "would too!" until Ash managed to pin her against the school wall, both still breathless form laughter, and proudly proclaimed, "You would too, Tink."

"Tink?" she repeated, mouth open in horror. "I'm a little bitchy fairy?"

"Well, you call me a silly ass all the time, you're vain, you seem to only have one emotion at a time and you'd rather hang out with a weird little boy than the other fairies."

"Oh yeah?"

"And you're made of laughter."

She blushed again. "You know, Ash, that could really be romantic if you had any idea of what it meant."

"Romantic?" he inquired. "It wasn't supposed to be."

"I didn't think so."

"But you really are my Tinkerbell, just like Brock's my Lost Boys, I couldn't go anywhere without you. It wouldn't be as fun."

"Not as romantic, but still there."

He pouted. "Dammit, and I was really trying that time!"

"Were you?" she said, leaning in. "You think you're ready to grow up, Peter?"

His eyes flicked down to her lips for an instant before back to her eyes. "Are you?"

"I am a grown up," she argued.

"Alright," he said, crossing his arms cockily and letting her up off the wall. "Prove it."

"How?" she snorted. "What's the adulthood test?"

"Do you believe in fairies?"

She laughed. "Of course not!"

"Then say it."

"Say what?"

"Say you don't believe in fairies."

"I just did."

"Say the sentence."

"Why?"

"Because everyone knows that the only way a fairy dies if you say the whole sentence," he said confidently. "So, Misty, can you kill a fairy? An adult could. But you can't, because you're not all grown up."

"I am too."

"Then say it."

She glared. "This is stupid."

"Then say it!" he retorted.

"Fine! I don't believe!"

"In what?"

"In fairies!"

"Say the whole thing!"

"No!" she shouted, pounding her fists against the brick. "I'm not a fairy killer!"

He giggled, tweaking her nose in a way that she hated. "Got ya."

She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. "Ash?"

"Yeah?"

"I wanna believe in reincarnation, and the next time you're born, it'll be in the right place. We'll all be in the right place." She smiled weakly. "Does that sound good?"

"We'll never kill a fairy there," Ash agreed. "But we'll never have sex there, either."

"We'll just have to make the best of it here!" she retorted.

Ash tackled her into the grass, tickling her sides while she returned the favor, and they read out loud from Peter Pan until the sun set. They left quoting, spouting the famous phrases of, "every time you say you don't believe in fairies, a fairy dies" and "You know that place between sleep and awake, the place where you can still remember dreaming? That's where I'll always love you, Peter Pan. That's where I'll be waiting" and, of course, they shouted as they raced off to their separate cars, "To die would be an awfully great adventure!" with such joy and exhilaration, Misty didn't even put the music on as she made her way home.

She gripped the wheel and she smiled to herself, "To die _will _be an awfully great adventure."


	10. Songfic

**A lot of people asked for songfics so…here you go. Nice and dark and creepy, full of rhymes from my childhoos and obscure songs by a psychopathic gothic singer. That's how you do a songfic, right?

* * *

**

_Miss Lucy had a steamboat,  
The steamboat had a bell!  
Miss Lucy went to heaven,  
the steamboat went to he-_

'_Lo operator!  
Please give me number nine!  
And if you disconnect me, I'll kick you from be-_

_'Hind the 'fridgerator,  
There was a piece of glass!  
Miss Lucy sat upon,  
And broke her little…_

The hands moved in a flash, little voices giggling as they clapped along with the borderline naughty lyrics. And people in the audience watched. They watched the four girls in their pit laugh and clap as if they were all alone. They knew they weren't. The felt the hungry eyes on them, sizing them up, whispering who was the prettiest, who had the best voice, who had the best coordination. They pointed out who was the most bruised from the fights the audience had egged on, and they used this lay time to discuss who they thought was the best fighter.

Twenty four surveillance for who would be the next gym leader.

Misty pouted, four years old, at her twelve year old sister. The eleven year old twins stayed chanting, but she put her hands down. "I like the other one!"

"Why?" Daisy whispered, her eyes flicking up to the people above.

"Hell, ass, behind, fly…It's just a zipper. It's not funny." She crossed her arms. "Play the other one with me."

The blonde leaned forward, face red. "But they're watching!"

"Good!" she snapped. "Let them!"

"But mom said-"

"_Baby, baby, stick your head in gravy! Wrap it up in bubble gum and send it to the navy!"_

The blonde shrieked. "Fine! Be that way!"

So, taking her sister's disgust for encouragement, Misty proudly stood up and glared at the men and women who had all now stopped talking, staring down at the tiny redhead who was now far in front of her sisters. Her little mouth dropped open wide, pulling in air to her lungs so the whole stadium roared with her voice:

_Miss Lucy had some leeches,  
those leeches liked to suck!  
And when they drank up all her blood…_

She paused dramatically, her legs spread the slightest bit in a strong stance, her hands curled into fists at her sides, and growled in the dark, sarcastic voice she continued for the rest of the song, "_She didn't give a fu-  
'Ny when the doctors  
Had locked her in her cell  
Miss Lucy screamed all night that they  
Should go to bloody  
Hello to the surgeon  
With scalpel old and blunt  
He'll tie you to the table  
Then he'll mutilate your  
Come it's nearly teatime  
The lunatics arrive  
The keepers bleed them all until  
There's no one left a  
Lively little rodents  
Are eaten up by cats  
We're subject to experiments  
Like laboratory  
Rats I've dropped a teacup  
How easily they break  
I'm on my hands and knees until  
I pay for my mis-  
Take off all your clothing  
We've only just begun  
We have no anesthesia  
It's eighteen forty  
One thing we should tell you  
Before you try again  
The tests are all invented by  
A lot of filthy  
Mentally hysteric  
She's failed the exam  
Don't bother telling Lucy for  
She doesn't give a  
Damn that nitrous oxide  
For when you can't escape  
They say the surgeons oft commit  
A murder or a  
Razor blades are rusty  
And not a lot of fun  
So when they try to amputate  
Your legs you'd better  
Run and fetch the chemist  
A patient's feeling sad  
She's been in chains for ages _

_And she isn't even  
Madness is a nuisance  
And no one is immune  
Your sister, mum or daughter  
May become a raving  
Lunatics are dangerous  
And doctors are obeyed  
They also go together just  
Like toast and marma-  
Ladies are like children  
With brains the size of squirrels  
Let's give a clitoridectomies  
To all the little  
Girls are helpless treasures  
That daddies must protect  
So lie upon the table  
For the doctors to in-  
speculums are super  
And stirrups all the rage  
So spread a lady's legs and put her  
Back in to her  
Cage of naked crazies  
The surgeon's here to bleed  
The doctors are all learned men  
And some can even  
Reading can be risky  
For women on the verge  
It only did us worlds of good  
To poison, leech and  
Purging is a penance  
Phlebotomy's a chore  
No need to sterilize the tools  
We never did be-  
Fore the night is over  
Before you go to bed  
They'll take a hammer and a nail  
And jam it in your  
Headstones in the courtyard  
And statues in the park  
Are not for the insane  
Just leave them rotting in the  
D-A-R-K  
dark  
dark  
dark!_

She finished and she huffed, her sisters quiet, the audience staring down at her. She prowled to the edge and beat as the side, shrieking at she reopened cuts on her hands and bruised them to the bone. "I don't want to be looked at anymore! You better let me go home or I'll scream!"

One old woman leaned over her, smiling like the girl was on the brink of answering a tough question. "Misty, what if we didn't let you go?"

She stomped her feet. "I'd fight until I get out. I'd fight all of you!" she glared around the room with a fierce determination that made the League Officials grin. "Don't you laugh at me! Don't you dare after you locked me up and-"

"Congrats girl," the old woman grinned. "You've got the fight of a gym leader in you."

She glared, snarling the words she didn't quite understand, "I'll give you a clitoridectomy with my teeth!"

The officials laughed again, and clapped to celebrate the tiger in her cage.


	11. The Nightmare Ring

**There is a psychic evil Mewtwo and Ash protecting Misty from bugs in this one, and you can thank: Tomoyo Kinomoto

* * *

**

_No matter how much I scream or kick, don't let go. I can't hurt you if you hold me like this._

His belt knotted tight, holding her elbows together, his arms hooked through hers for extra assurance. She could get him with her legs, but not well. He could dodge the hits, and probably take a couple if it came down to it. She didn't have the muscles for kicking backwards. At least, he hoped not. He thought about joking with her, asking her to hit him, but decided not to. Instead, he solemnly squeezed her hand.

_And Ash?_

"Let's go," he said quietly, giving her a push forward.

_Not even if…_

A step forward, and she stiffened, throwing herself back against him. He pushed on, despite her heels attempting to dig into the dirt, he pushed her stumbling and shaking, keeping her from falling to her knees by tying her arms back. It was too painful to go down. She had to stay up.

"Ash, I lie," she gasped, shaking her head. "I was wrong!"

He swallowed, his throat thickening. "There's nothing here."

"Yes there are!" she shouted. "Ash, don't you get it? I was wrong!"

"It's not real. It's Mewtwo's illusion. Misty, I can't see anything. I can't see whatever you're seeing. It just feels-"

"Ash, I can tell! This isn't just my head!" she shouted. She thrashed her head back, trying to catch his skull with her own, trying to knock him out. He leaned back just in time, and pushed ducking his head down and using all his strength to continue.

"It feels real, but it's not."

"Let me go!" she screamed, she kicked at him and missed. "Ash Ketchum, you ass! You bastard! Stop it! Stop it!"

His eyes blurred. "I'm sorry!"

"If you were, you're let me go!'

"I can't tell you how sorry I am, Mist."

Her voice broke then, and he figured his eyes weren't the only ones blurring. "Let go!"

But he pushed her forward still. Then she cried. She no longer made threats, just scattered "Please, Ash, please!" that were so scared they broke his heart. But they had to get out, and there were only a few feet left. And, soon, her pleas faded and there was nothing left but deep, terrifying wails. She fell to her knees, sobbing and exhausted, and Ash untied her. He picked her up like a bridal, her arms wrapped around his neck, and his shirt got wetter and wetter.

No words came, though.

And when they were finally out of the Nightmare Ring, and he laid her down, she wouldn't let go. So he sat with her as she cried, holding her despite his friends looking on, not thinking about how romantic it looked, because the girl in his arms was absolutely shattered. There must have been bugs on the path, but he doubted that was all. The Nightmare Ring truly had dug into the depths of her mind, had pulled out the things that would scare her the most.

Misty didn't talk, it was found, because she couldn't. She was covered in scratches, bumps, bruises and breaks, and the bones that vibrated in her throat that let her talk, had been shattered. Once that healed, she said little else but requests for food and water for weeks, until she was finally alone to meet Ash's eyes.

"Thank you," she murmured.

He cried then. "Mist, I'm sorry. I _tried_ to keep you asleep. _I tried!_"

_Not even if I wake up._

_He had frozen, had gawked, but he stumbled through his thoughts and asked: And bring the nightmare with you?_

_Especially then.

* * *

_

I'm back from New Jersey! Yeah, bam! Now I get to do more college apps and homework and...and why did I want to come back?_  
_


	12. Kiss

**Now, hope you don't mind my combining, because we've got a whole lot:**

**Ash's homecoming was suggested by Papoteer **

**The story ending kiss was suggested by d i n o b o t**

** Hershey's kiss was suggested by LuCarly**

**And Virgo Writer's "I Thought I Saw a Rainbow" gave me a little extra twist.**

Melody was downright touchy. Much to Misty's dismay, this was discovered after they had both been invited to Ash's reunion, right after his near victory in the Sinnoh League. She had spent the night occasionally slapping Misty firmly on her butt, tweaking her nose, hugging her tightly and once to Misty's horror, groping her and then correctly announcing her bra size and calling it out to Ash. She spent most of the night hiding inside after that, her face a bright red and she sat down with her plate mounted high with homemade food.

She wasn't alone all night, as Melody came to sit down with her, holding two slices of chocolate cake, piled high with frosting and each decorated with a dollop of whipped cream and a Hershey's kiss. The brunette smiled her best smile and held out one plate, saying, "I brought this for you."

"Want my underwear for it?" she muttered, stabbing at her plate of chicken. She wasn't planning on eating it, but pretending the chicken was Melody's face made her feel much better.

"No, it's just my way of apologizing." She set the cake on the table softly, holding her own cake close to her chest. "You don't have to take it. It doesn't mean anything."

She stabbed her chicken harder. "I don't _want_ it."

Melody sighed, pushing the cake towards the redhead the slightest bit in hopes of a truce, and set her own cake down on her side of the table. She folded her hands in her lap, letting them twist back and forth over one another. "What I was doing tonight wasn't right. You didn't like it, you told me to stop. It was sexual harassment. If I was a guy someone probably would have called the cops on me by now. And," she groaned, seeming almost pained to admit it, "I know you like Ash and I shouldn't have embarrassed you like that."

Misty tossed her plate down on the table. "Take him, then."

She blinked. "What?"

Her glare was so sharp, so hard, the Melody actually leaned back a bit. "That's why you're doing this, right? If you embarrass me, I won't tell him I like him and he won't like me. Well, I don't care. I'm a coward anyway. I'm not going to tell him. If you want him, just take him and leave me alone." She hugged her knees to her chest. "I just don't care anymore."

"That's not what I was doing!" she cried, leaning forward again.

"Oh, really? What was it then?" her sea green eyes glared into hers, and the normally confident girl ducked her head and picked up her cake once more.

She offered it, holding it out quickly and smiling again. "You can have mine!"

"Nice question dodging."

"You can have my kiss, even." She pulled it off and handed it to her. "Just please don't be mad at me."

"What do you _care_?" Misty hissed. "You _hate_ me."

"I don't hate you."

"Yeah, you do." She sighed, rubbing her eyes to stop them from watering. "I know you do, and I don't care, but could you just leave me alone?"

"I'm really sorry." Melody paused. "It's just…I like you when you're mad, and you look funny and cute and you're fun and…and I just want to give you a kiss."

"Oh, just give it to me, then!" she shouted, holding out her hand.

But Melody didn't go for her hand. She pushed it away and leaned forward. The brunette's lips slid of Misty's, feeling the girl stiffen and go slack under her. She pushed the Hershey kiss from her mouth to Misty's with a flick of her tongue, then ripped away, feeling the shame and embarrassment flame up her cheeks. Her heart pounded, because it was worth it. Because she had finally kissed her. "I did it because I'm in love with you."

There was a clatter, and the girls looked up to see Ash scrambling away, tripping over his feet as he went. Melody gasped, and looked back at Misty, completely ready to get yelled at, or, knowing the crazy girl, get attacked. But Misty sat completely still, her eyes unfocused and mouth half open. It took her a second to turn her head, to speak, and when she finally did, it was a flat monotone of: "You kissed me, and Ash saw it. And he heard you say-"

"I'll go get him!" she cried, getting to her feet. "I'm sorry!"

"You kissed me," Misty whispered. "That you…you kissed me."

"I'm _sorry_."

Misty swallowed thickly, then nodded. "It's okay. You…I get it now." She gently reached out and squeezed Melody's hand, shaking her head. "I'm not-"

"I know," she said weakly, sinking back down to the couch. "You don't feel the same way."

"I don't."

"I'll stop picking on you and…" She suddenly began to cry. "I'm sorry! I just knew you'd never like me and…and I couldn't help it! It's not fair that he gets you and he doesn't even try! I do everything I can and no matter what you'll never love me back. It's not fair!"

"I wish I could," Misty said weakly. "But you…you'll fine someone, Melody. There's got to be a girl out there for you."

"Oh, please." She smiled, wiping at her eyes with the heal of her hand. "I know what you're doing. You don't have to."

She laughed. "Hey, nothing's changed. I still think you're a bitch."

"You better go explain to Ash, don't you think?"

Misty struggled, blushing. "Don't know. He just saw two girls kissing. Do I want to see what he's off doing?"

"It's Ash. It takes more than that." Melody pushed her off playfully. "Go get your man, Red. Someone should end up happy."

She rubbed at the back of her neck, starting to stand, but hesitating. "I don't want to leave you if you're-"

"It's okay. I want to be alone." She picked up her cake. "That's what you do when you get rejected. You sulk and you eat cake and watch romantic movies and yell at the screen that it's all a lie."

She jumped up, about to race away, when she stopped again, turned, and gestured awkwardly around her chest. "You got my bra size right...how? I mean, it's not because you, like...you didn't go through my stuff, right?"

The girl winked. "Nah, just practice."

She decided not to think too deeply about that one, and decided to not imagine exactly what the practice would entail. Instead, she gave an incredibly nervous laugh, turned on her heel, and ran out into the yard. Ash was, unsurprisingly, by the food table, loading up on desserts and talking much too loudly and denying in his loud, awkward, squeaky voice that anything was wrong. He was consuming two pounds of molten lava cake because it was so cold out. In the middle of summer. And _no_, his voice did not crack because he was _crying_, he was becoming a man and that's what happened when you got your man voice.

People did not appear to believe him, and Misty saved him from many more terrible denials by marching up to him, spinning him around and ordering: "We have to talk."

"Um, I got it. Loud and clear." Ash rubbed his neck. "It's okay. I mean, I don't care, I just want you to be happy or whatever."

"Oh, dear Mew." She grabbed his hand and rolled her eyes. "Thanks for the support, but I really don't need it."

She tugged him around to the front of the house, pushing him against the slats and checking once over her shoulder to make sure there weren't any cars or people coming. He blushed, blurting, "It's okay if you like Melody! I'll go to your wedding and whatever, and I'm not mad. I just wish you had told me."

"Told you what?" she growled.

"That you like girls."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, if that ever happens, I promise to tell you."

"What do you mean?" he said, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"I like boys."

"But Melody-"

"Likes girls," she cut him off, crossing her arms. "Specifically, she likes me. It happens. I don't like her back. She kissed me and I told her I didn't feel the same and that was that. She gets it. There's nothing going on between us."

"Oh," he said awkwardly. "You sure?"

"Ash, have you ever been kissed before?"

He nodded eagerly. "Uh-huh. This girl-"

"It was only rhetorical, Ash. We all saw the victory girl come out of nowhere and kiss you 'til you saw stars."

"So why'd you ask?" he shot back.

"Because that was what it was like when Melody kissed me. All it was was two lips touching. That's it. Just because it's supposed to mean something doesn't mean it has to." She smiled. "But they're better when they mean something."

"How do you know?"

"I don't, not for sure," she said, and now it was her turn to blush and look away shyly. "I guess we could find out."

"How?"

She blushed. "The obvious way."

Obliviously, Ash asked, "What's the obvious way?"

"Kissing. _Us_ kissing."

"And that…" He swallowed. "That'll mean something?"

"It will to me," she whispered. "Maybe not to you."

"No! It'd mean a lot to me, too." He grinned. "That's why I ran when I saw you and Melody."

She dropped her arms to her sides, swinging them back and forth. "So, aren't you going to kiss me?"

"You do it!" he yelped. "I don't know how to start it."

She rolled her eyes. "Alright, how about we both move forward?"

"For the love of Pete, just kiss already!" Melody shouted through the window. They jumped, seeing her just a few feet away and knocking on the slats. "This is so stupid! I swear, pretty boy, if you can't do it, I will."

Ash laughed, hiding his blush under his hat. "Want to go somewhere private?"

She grinned, wrapping her arms around his neck and sweeping his baseball cap away with one easy motion. "If she wants to watch, let's give her a show," she taunted.

Their lips meant, and it wasn't like Melody's kiss where their tongues suddenly tangled. Their was nothing but a gentle pressure on their lips, a warm, excited flush that raced up and down their spines and went straight into their fingers, so that Misty spread her hand wide on the wooden house and Ash pulled her closer around her waist. Then they pulled away, smiling, blushing, and Misty softly asked, "Better then the crazy fan?"

He nodded. "You taste like chocolate."

"Yeah, all girls do." She leaned in for another kiss, planning to make this one just a bit more like Melody's. "I would know."

* * *

Well, I suppose if anyone has a problem with homosexuality I've certainly scared them off by now. I don't know why I keep using it. I think it's just because it's the easiest way to break a cliche, which is sad, because a lot of homosexual relationships, especially in fanfiction, are portrayed as purely sexual monstrosities. Gay couples don't really get these cliches. Well, at least, not anything under M rated versions of it.

But that was fun, and I think the next one is going to be AshxJessie (oh yeah, be afraid). I hope you all enjoyed it!

Also, how often would you like these posted? Do you think it'd be better to do it weekly, every other day? Only Tuesdays and Thursdays? Only on dates that are palindromes? I could continue, but I'll spare you the terrible, humorless waste of space.


	13. One Night Stand

_Happy Thursday! I think I'll be updating weekly. This plan will probably not work. Just a warning_.

**Drunken one night stand – too addicted to fiction and tomoyo kinomoto**

**AshxJessie Kael Hyun

* * *

**

"Oh my Mew," Ash gasped, gawking at the ceiling. He gawked at the ceiling, because the scene next to him was quite horrifying. He had woken up in a couple hotels over the years, not very often, sure, but enough to know that he usually managed to wake up next to someone who had a nice body and big, green eyes that made him feel all fuzzy. However, this morning he had woken up, looked over, and almost threw up in his mouth a bit. "We did not do what I think we just did. I mean, I was drunk. Anything could have happened. We could have played tag."

"Naked tag?" Jessie asked sarcastically, sitting up. The covers fell off her, and she stood, most assuredly naked. She had a nice body with big boobs and all the right curves and she had really big green eyes. They did not make him feel fuzzy. They made him feel like he had slaughtered thousands of kittens. "We had sex. We used a condom. I didn't have a disease last time I checked, but if I do, I'm going to come back and kill you, twerp." She pointed sharply.

He sat up, too stunned to care that his enemy was seeing him shirtless. In the daylight. "But I hate you!"

"Shut up, twerp," she snarled.

He sighed, and fell back again. "I know I was drunk, but why would it be you? There were lots of girls there! I could have gone with any of them. Why would I go with you?"

She glared, hands on her hips, not that he would know as he was intensely focused on _not _seeing her naked. "Listen, kid, you weren't exactly complaining last night when I-"

"I'm not saying that!" Ash protested. "Jessie, you're hot, I know that. I mean, you've got boobs the size of watermelons!"

She grinned. "They're real.

"They're bigger than my head!" he gasped, sitting up once more, then shook his head. "But, you know, you're still my archenemy. I shouldn't be...you know."

She beamed. "_Arch_enemy?"

"You guys are the only ones who come back." Ash shrugged. "Usually I beat people once and they leave."

She sat down on the bed, and he gave up the fight about avoiding seeing any of her and instead just tried very hard to look only at her face. She ran her fingers through her hair, tangled down to her hips and groaned. "Alright, so, you clean?"

"I don't feel clean," he muttered.

She scoffed. "Okay, well, we used a condom and I remembered my birth control. Plus, I'm sure any sperm you have swim in circles. So, that's good. I probably won't get pregnant. I'm sure I won't. Well, you'll never know if I did."

"I don't want to be a dad," Ash said awkwardly. "But, I mean, if you…you're not going to kill it are you?"

"Japan's pro-choice. Sorry, kid." She ran both hands through her hair this time, then dropped then to her thighs with a loud slap. "But you're clean? No diseases?"

"Not since the last time I checked."

"Which was…?" she prodded.

"A month ago." He paused and blushed a bit. "And no, I haven't had sex since then."

"Well, I'm going in after this. You ought to too." She glared. "I'll kick your ass if I get something."

"I don't have _any_thing. If there's any disease, I got it from you!"

"And how do you know?"

"I'm the good guy!"

"So? Good people get AIDS and gonorrhea."

He grumbled, "And you're not telling, right?"

"Ha! I just banged you!" She laughed, tossing back her head. "I'm not keeping that a secret! That's comedy _gold_!"

"What if I buy you breakfast?" he asked.

She corrected, "It's lunch."

"What if I buy you lunch?"

She grinned. "James and Meowth?"

"Them too," Ash groaned.

She giggled, clapping her hands together like a little girl. "Deal! I'll go get ready. You'll buy me some nice clothes for going out, right?"

"Sure," he agreed. "It's not like I need the money for anything else. Like vaccinations. Or penicillin." The door slammed shut behind her and she rushed back to her room in a bathrobe, her clothes tugged under one arm. Ash sighed once more in response, fell back in the bed, and stared at the ceiling once more, because the scene that had just occurred was absolutely horrifying, and he didn't care if Jessie was gorgeous. For the love of _Mew_, he just had sex with _Jessie_!

...Great sex, he had to admit.

Really, really great sex.

* * *

Good job, Jessie. You have gotten your team a free breakfast. This may qualify as prostitution. Or blackmail. Or some glorious combination of the two! XD

So, I'm working on Hero, and I definitely want to get that up this weekend. This chapter's a bit longer, and there's a lot of mysteries getting solved. There is also a slaking. A _wonderful _slaking! I hope you will enjoy him and his ways of terrifying the twerps!


	14. Christmasish

Now, I know what you're thinking. The Twelve Days of Christmas? Why, I'm the most whimsical elf in all of fairy land! This is truly a brilliant idea! Surely no one has ever thought of this before. I am a god among men. Who will sacrifice a goat in my honor? Not only I am Jesus Christ, the Christmas spirit…thing…ish himself, but I am also the sun to those who worship the solstice, the magic oil for the Jewish, and the magical bunny who helped Siddhartha achieve enlightenment and become Buddha. Hell, I'm Santa and Jack Frost as well.

Stop.

Oh, for the love of all that is decent in the world, have mercy and stop.

I know it seems like a good idea at the time. This happens. For instance, before I decided to walk out on the seemingly sturdy bent over reeds on the stream this summer so I could get a better reading, walking that far over the chilly stream seemed brilliant. Then I fell in, and the idea appeared amazingly stupid. We all make mistakes.

Stop making these fics. They are an endless abomination upon the world. Stop it now.

**

* * *

**

The day I'm posting this is the sixteenth. At least, it ought to be. I am trying to break these clichés, you know, and why would I ever post a Christmas story right on Christmas? I'm at least a week ahead. It's not that I don't like Christmas. Christmas is my birthday, after all. It's the one day I get presents all year, really, the only big one at least. But the biggest one that irks me about this is aside from this one creepy Christmas special where Santa showed up, the characters have never really said they're Christian.

Not that I have anything against Santa or Christians, mind you. Well, perhaps something against Santa. I've just never, ever been okay with people in strange costumes asking for clubs, anime conventions excluded. Disney, theme parks, Chuck E. Cheese, and mall Santas. It's always freaked me out. As for Christians, I don't really care. Hey, worship whatever you want. As long as you're a nice person, I don't care what you believe, honestly.

But religion has always been something of a fascination to me. I don't think I ever quite believed in anything as a child, because my family wasn't incredibly religious and I had a very overactive imagination. I assumed everything was a story. Really, I don't quite remember having a perception of movies and books being based off real things until I was about eight or so. To this day, I love researching religions. I love the stories, the messages, and seeing how people can look at a single text and get hundreds and hundreds of different meanings out of it. I mean, really, look at all those denominations!

So, around Christmas, we get this crazy phenomenon where it's, well, Christmas. All of a sudden every character is Christian, but not really. Yeah, people will mention Santa, but they never really bring up Jesus or the indeterminate number of wise men or the strange house/stable conundrum and that whole shindig about them not really being wise men but Magi and all the fun trouble that gets up to. They just start rambling about the spirit of Christmas, which from what I can surmise from reading these fanfics and watching bad movies on Lifetime and ABC is about someone screwing up very, very badly and being forgiven because it's Christmas. And Santa is real.

So I've never quite understood why we've never had something like this:

_"Misty, want to come over to my place for Christmas?"_

_She glared up at him and mumbled around a mouthful of cookie, "Solstice."_

_He rolled his eyes, staring at the microwave as it twirled his hot chocolate mug around. "You know what I mean."_

"Don't," she said stubbornly, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. "You know it's practically blasphemy."

The closet thing we have is, my favorite, the obligatory Jew. I'd like someone to explain to me why there's an obligatory Jew. It happens in pretty much everything. Hey, it even happened in one of my favorite shows _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_. But it's not like they really celebrate Hanukah. I mean, you might get a menorah, or some really bad joke about getting a dradle. And, holy cow, dradle isn't even considered a word. There's a red squiggly line. Wow. I don't see why everyone has this misconception. Have they never been to a Jewish household? I go every year and get delicious latkes and apple sauce and sour cream and we exchange awesome presents. Not to mention dradles being very cool, and also can be absolutely gorgeous collectables.

So where's the other minority holidays? I want to see this:

_She pouted, arms crossed. "I'm celebrating the winter solstice, not your stupid blasphemous holiday and all its stupid commercialism. You know, in the Bible, you're not even supposed to bring a stupid tree inside your house to decorate. It says in the book and everything. It says it's what us pagans do."_

Or, even better, where's my made up holidays?

_"So, what?" he teased over the microwave beeping. He popped it open and reached out, then hissed and yanked his hand away as it scalded his skin. There was a loud clattering from the kitchen as he searched through the kitchen for some kind of potholder. "How do we celebrate the solstice in the House of Moltres? Do we sacrifice things to a big old fire? Is it a chicken?"_

_"Older members drink an aphrodisiac and have sex with their significant other."_

_"Really?"_

_"It's the house of passion. We also do the things we enjoy doing most."_

And why is it never Ash or Misty? I've seen Brock or Tracey be the obligatory minority, but never any of the main girls or Ash. Nor Gary or Drew for that matter. Not only that, but it seems like they're depressed they don't get to celebrate Christmas. They're all, "damn. I hate my religion." I mean, don't they have conversions in this world? In this world are you killed if you try to convert? Considering what a minority they seem to be, I suppose I can imagine why.

But what's more, the time has finally rolled around where the makers of Pokémon have finally said, "Just make God. Really. We're running out of things to have power over." So they made God. They call it a god. It has super amazing awesome powers, and nobody seems to care about this…why? You've got people surrounded by rare, incredible creatures. Where is my fear and worship of the unknown? Granted, we're the only species we have to go on, but these little buggers are human, right? I think it's safe to base it off of that. We go from worship of the sun, then we go to polygamy, and then we play My God's Greater Than Your God until we have, like, eighty different religions who are screaming, "Not only is my God the strongest, but he's also the only real one! Suck it!"

Hell, you can even have fun and make it a little cliché. Watch:

_He finally came back, sipping gently at the steaming liquid. "So, what'll you be doing?"_

_"Fishing, reading, watching chick flicks." She sighed, a faint blush flashing across her cheeks. "Or confessing my love to someone."_

_"No way."_

_"My sisters have been trying to get me to do it for years. It's supposed to be all romantic and blessed and wonderful and you have a long happy, awesome relationship. Still, it's weird to do. Just come out and confess to whoever because of a holiday." She laughed a little, pulling her knees up to her chest on the couch and eyeing the happy people have wacky holiday hijinks on the current public access channel. "It won't change anything."_

Voila! Confessing your love scenario, right there. Who doesn't like a good, embarrassing confession, hmm?

To go even farther with all of this, where is my mocking? That's right, where is that little banter between people where they're like, "Ha ha, your god is fat" and "Ha ha, talking snake"? It happens. Don't pretend it doesn't. Just watch a little bit, and it's easy to see. Pretty much everyone finds each other's religion silly, don't they? I mean, you'd believe their religion if you didn't see some kind of flaw in it. So where's that making fun of beliefs? Where's that teasing about customs? I would die without that! I _love _that! It's good to laugh at ourselves!

_"That sounds like doubt."_

_"Shut up!" she snapped, but her eyes flicking up over her knees were dancing._

_"Why, Misty, is that blasphemy I hear?" he taunted. He carefully set down his hot chocolate, then tackled her, pinning her down to the couch. She didn't resist very much, but that was probably because she had spent the night eating Christmas cookies until she was close to exploding. "Are you saying that the blessed Moltres won't bring you a boyfriend if you follow its commands?"_

_"Are you making fun of my religion?" she accused._

_He sighed and shook his head. "Mist, I have to. You believe the fire chicken is magic. You worship a delicious entrée."_

_"First of all no, we don't worship an entrée." She giggled up at him. "We don't think she's magic. It's spiritual, you dolt. Second, what about what you worship mister…what are you?"_

_"Human," he quipped._

_"No, what do you worship?"_

Oh, and by the way! As long as I'm throwing everything out there. Where, exactly, is this?

_"I don't."_

You can't see me but I'm looking at you expectantly. You are aware that those of us who have no real religion, religions that don't have holidays in winter, atheists and agnostics don't disappear around the holidays? They exist, you know. Though, I guess those of you that celebrate Christmas wouldn't know. Us and the Jews that aren't obligatory go and have a parade in the streets. It's fantastic, really. Don't let anyone know I told you, though. It's a secret.

_"Ooh, nothing?" She clucked her tongue disapprovingly. "That's blasphemy, boyo."_

_"Is it?" he teased. "I'll drag you down with me. Just wait. The twenty fifth rolls around and there'll be a partridge in a pear tree."_

_"You better not. I'm a good little pagan and I'm not participating."_

_"Day two? Two calling birds and another partridge in a pear tree."_

_"I will cast an evil, wicked witch spell on you with the power the almighty Moltres has bestowed upon me."_

_"Day three? French hens. Three of them. Not to mention the birds and the tree again. And just wait until day five."_

_"I'll drag you into mine," she retorted._

_"I'll have to drink an aphrodisiac?"_

_She blushed. "No. You know what I mean."_

_"What's that?" he asked._

And, finally, and ever so importantly:

_She smiled. "The solstice is on Christmas this year."_

_He smiled back. "Yeah?"_

_"I could spend it with you." She shrugged shyly under him, glancing away. "If you want."_

_"I thought you said no aphrodisiac."_

_"I did, but I'd like to spend it with someone I really care about. We can train pokémon together, watch cheesey movies, all that stuff we love."_

_He rolled back off of her, sitting on the arm of the couch with a pretend serious nod. "That sounds cheaper than my tree idea."_

_"Mmm," she agreed, sitting up as well. "You haven't even paid me back for my bike yet, I doubt you could afford, you know, stuff."_

_"Are…are you sure you don't want to share that hot chocolate?"_

_"You only have one left." She laughed. "What, are you possessed by the Christmas spirit?"_

_"Nah," he said, shaking his head. "I'm just doing what I enjoy doing most."_

Regardless of your religious beliefs, we're human in the end. So don't make them act romantic because it's Christmas, because it's their holiday. If they're going to be nice, have them do it because they're genuinely nice, because they genuinely care. You don't need Christmas to have this warm, tingly, beautiful feeling. You get it from someone being a good person. Adding a holiday to it is completely unnecessary.

Christmas is not magic. People get just as hurt, in fact, more so, than they do any other day. What it does do, however, is it makes us really notice the good things that people do. It makes us stop and think about the kind of people we are, and the type we want to be. It's not about expressing goodwill towards men. You should be doing that anyway. Christmas is your break, your time to sit back and notice it, to realize how absolutely amazing this world can be, and all the people in it.

I hope you all enjoy the time you spend with your family and friends.

I hope you love the presents you get and give, the wonderfully cheesey holiday movies, and your holiday feast.

Mostly, I just wish you all the happiness you can get!


	15. Secrets, Secrets

**Secret Diary - Christipotter

* * *

**

Ash watched, transfixed as the redhead continued her diligent work on the thing he'd never been able to do, despite his years of trying. Her hair was limp and damp from the heat of the attic, beads of sweat forming on her temple and sliding down ever so slowly down her cheek and dripping off her chin. Three hours of work with a paperclip and some soft instrumental versions of pop songs in the background, playing on her old boombox she had brought from home, had brought her to another break. She wiped the sweat from her face, sighing and leaning back on one of the dusty trunks.

He swallowed. "You don't have to."

She grinned. "Three hours in, and now is when you tell me?"

"I told you earlier!"

"I'm teasing you." She laughed, holding up the thin little book. "What's in here that had you all worked up anyway? Did you swipe this off Gary's sister? Want to see if 36 double D thinks you're an absolute dreamboat?"

He blushed, shaking his head at the irony. "It's not hers."

"It's a girl's alright." She turned the book over, fingering the cloth flower design. "A rich girl – or one that really needed some privacy. This is the kind of diary you special order. Breaking into one of those is like breaking into a house. Not a really fancy house, but it's good enough for a house lock."

He raised his eyebrows. "And you're going to do it with paperclips?"

"It's steel wire," she grumbled, twisting the thing back and forth in her fingers. "It works like everything else."

"Do you really think you can do it?" he said, making her frown.

"I'll die trying. This thing is a challenge and I never back down from a challenge." She eyed the thick piece of metal that bound the book shut carefully, the lock even hotter than the surrounding air. "Cheating, though. I'm not always above cheating."

He smirked. "So that's how you keep your badges."

"Oh, ha. Hilarious." She grinned, regardless of the fact that she was being sarcastic. Probably because the sweat was rolling off of her in rivers and she couldn't get the lock open and, worst of all, she was doing this in front of Ash, who would probably remember how terrible she smelled and how horrible she looked for many years to come. She needed to smile. "Give me some time with a really good file and I'll have this thing split open."

He giggled, leaning forward. "The lock beat you, didn't it?"

"It did not," she fumed and plunged in with the paperclip again. Her hands hurt. He knuckles creaked and swelled with the hours of effort. She spoke to ignore it, "I have never met a lock that hasn't open under my magic touch. There have been countless diaries, treasure chests and doors that have been liberated from the evils of privacy thanks to me and a bit of honest work. Know why?"

"Because you're so competitive you would celebrate if you won a drowning contest?" he suggested.

"Because secrets are worth it," she finished. She looked up at him to gauge his reaction, then, seeing him just curious, continued, "Because for me, for you, even, secrets are worth it. We want to know things. We want to learn things. We're curious, and we've got the skills to do something about it. We're determined and we like the work and the reward. It's not about blackmail. It's for us. To know we won, that we beat whoever lost."

"I'm not like that, though."

"Then why are you having me break this open?" Her hands paused and her eyes stared into his, despite the salty sweat begging her to blink and close them. "Instead of asking your mom whatever you want to know?"

"That's not my mom's."

"It matches her trunk." Misty patted what he was sitting on with her foot, noticing it had the same floral print and the same golden curvy signature in the corner as the diary. "Same brand. One of a kind. Well, maybe not one of a kind, but rare. Way too rare for that to be a coincidence. And that is your mom's trunk, isn't it?"

"No."

She paused. "It's not…is it?"

"Yeah."

Her eyes widened very slightly. "But it's a girl's. It can't be your dad's."

"From what I can tell, he stole it off my aunt." He swallowed. "He wasn't…Dad wasn't that honest a guy, sometimes."

"Oh," she said softly, lowering her gaze. "But you haven't asked your mom?"

"No."

"You _could_."

"I'd rather hear it from him."

"You want to hear the thing she won't tell you," she countered. "You want to know if it really was you that made him run off?"

"Are you done playing psychiatrist?"

Misty smiled, her face void of any humor. "And how does that make you feel?"

"Are you still going to open it?"

She was genuinely surprised at that, actually rocking back to look up at him. "Of course!"

"You're not going to blackmail me?" he inquired.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Why should I? The only person I could go to is your mother, and I don't want to hurt her."

"You want to read it?"

She stared down at it for a moment, feeling her heart quicken a bit. "If you're offering."

"And if I don't?"

"Keep your secrets. They're yours. Not everything had to be told. Just getting this diary open is enough for me."

"How come?"

"Because I'm doing it for you, not for me. The victory is knowing that you are one satisfied customer." There was a quiet click then, and they both jumped at the sound surprised them.

"Was that…?"

She giggled, and twirled the paperclip on her finger. "Secrets, secrets are no fun!" and bust out laughing.

"Secrets are for everyone," he murmured.

Ash leaned forward elegantly and took the diary from her hand. It fell open in his hands, and he found that the pages were written in very, very neatly. Though clearly still a man's handwriting, and the writing of a man who didn't make a career in pretty cursive, it was readable. It was straight and to the point, keeping only important things, the stuff he couldn't tell anyone. It was his reason for being a trainer. A reason for loving Delia. It was a reason for leaving the family.

And when Ash read it, he read it out loud.

* * *

Posted at 12:10, Christmas Eve, after watching a movie about the devil. Bam. Has there ever, ever been anyone more awesome?


	16. Mermaid

A tad late, sure, but I've been busy. Doing...things. Like knitting a blanket. A red one. It's pretty darn cool so far.

And, as for Hero, I'm working on it. It's a big chapter! I'm trying to make it super awesome for you. *feels shame*

MERMAID

**

* * *

**

Granted, she hadn't asked for it, but she could have been a little more grateful. But, nope, Misty Williams was at the bottom of the pool, arms crossed in a rather angry manner. Around her neck sparkled a gold chain and a pretty, blue pendant with little sparkling flecks. Right above that was a pair of gills that flapped slowly as she breathed underwater. Hence the problem. But Ash didn't think it was that bad. In fact, he leaned down to her with a morbidly happy smile and chirped, "That is so cool!" in a way that made him a prime target for getting punch in the face.

She threw herself on the side of the pool, dragging her body out of the water, and the gills vanished into her skin with what looked like an extremely painful ripple. Then, she glared at the boy and shouted, "I'm a fish!"

"You're mostly human!" He laughed awkwardly. "Hooray! You're a mermaid! Isn't that cool?"

"Your necklace makes me a fish whenever I go into the water!" She tugged at it and shrieked, "And I can't get it off!"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Most girls would love to be a mermaid."

"I'm not a mermaid. I'm a fish." She shook the necklace more viciously. "I have gills, Ash. I don't have fins or a seashell bra or a magic singing voice. I have painful gills."

"About that-"

"About what?" she snarled.

The giggling turned terrified. "Um, I did some research, and if you wear it for a while, like, uh, five minutes, you won't just have gills. You'll have everything."

She gawked. "I'll really be a fish?"

"Mermaid!" he protested wildly. "Who doesn't want to be a mermaid?"

"Me! That's half fish! Ash, I eat fish! Fish are not supposed to be half human! Why am I a fish?"

"Isn't it weird how, when you say a word enough, it loses all meaning? Like fish!" He smiled in hopes of quelling her temper.

She smacked him.

"Make me not a fish!" she shouted.

"I don't know how!" he said, scrambling back. "I don't know what it's called or where it's from and a creepy old lady who lived in a shack and smelled like whiskey gave me it and said it helps you swim."

"Why would you take that from her?" she shouted.

"I don't judge people based on their looks, Misty!"

"You're the kid who takes candy from strangers and ruins Halloween for the rest of us!"

"It was one time and he wasn't even in a van!"

She swept past him with a glare and he followed obediently behind, going to the nearest room with a computer. She logged on, and he noted her password was, weirdly, 'deepfriedcheese7!', then opened her internet browser and began her Google quest to find how to change her back. He tried to help, but she smacked his hand when he went for the mouse or the keyboard or pointed at the screen, and every time he tried to talk she made a weird sound that was somewhere between a moan and a growl, most likely because his first effort had been, "Don't you even want to see what you look like with a real mermaid tail?" which, in retrospect, had probably not been the best thing to say.

"Misty?" Violet lilted as she strolled in, hardly taking notice of her sister's sour mood and the ample teasing opportunities that could be brought up with the two of them sitting in front of a computer together, googling Mew knew what.. "Do you have a minute? I just need someone to proofread my script."

"Not now!"

"Why not?" she whined. "It's really good, and I won't even make you be in it, probably."

"Because Ash bought me a necklace that turns me into a fish," she snarled, glaring at the boy.

"Mermaid!"

"Awesome." Violet grinned. "Misty, you're so lucky."

"I have gills! I don't want gills!" She hugged herself with a shudder. "Ash bought this cursed necklace from a creepy old lady and now I'm a damn fish."

"Why'd you buy it if the lady was creepy?"

"She seemed perfectly nice." He cleared his throat. "For a drunk in old shack on the side of the road."

"You ruined Halloween for _everyone _in Pallet, didn't you?"

"It was a king sized chocolate bar and strangers are usually nice to me!"

Violet rolled her eyes. "So, why don't you just not wear it?"

"I can't let it go."

"Oh, that cute?"

"No, literally." Misty yanked at it again to demonstrate. "I can't let it go."

"That's easy enough," she shrugged. "Come here, both of you."

They did, and Violet had them face each other. They stood awkwardly, a few inches apart, and the older sister went sneaking around behind Ash to whisper directions in his ear. And, after pausing to gape at her in disbelief, he did as she instructed and took Misty's hands in his own.

Then, speaking deliberately, he said, "I got you the necklace because I knew you loved swimming, that it was your life. I thought you beautiful in the water, free, like you were supposed to be there. I knew how terrible it was that you have to come back up. I thought this would let you stay down forever, so your happiness would never end. That's why I gave it to you. It was just to make you happy. That's all I ever wanted, in the end, to make you happy.

"I know you think it makes you hideous, a monster, a freak, being half fish. But I don't care. I think you're beautiful no matter what. I don't love you because you're beautiful as a mermaid, or as a human. I don't care if you live underwater or on land. I just love you, and I will always love you, no matter what happens."

He leaned forward and fiddled with the clasp, needing specific instructions from both sisters to get it undone, then tossed it to the floor with a triumphant laugh. "It's gone!"

"A love confession fixes it every time." Violet clapped cheerily. "Alright, who wants to read my play?"

"One moment." Misty picked up the necklace and yanked it over Ash's head with a cackle. "Good luck getting a confession, Ketchum!" she shouted as she raced off with her sister.

In the pool five minute later, Ash didn't get what all the complaining was about. With a nice long tail, gills, and a transformation that was only the slightest bit painful, he was having a lot of fun swimming around in the Cerulean Gym's aquarium. He quite enjoyed being a fish.


	17. Romantic

**Absence makes the heart grow fonder – Takeshi Jecht**

**Mistletoe – Bahamat Slayer

* * *

**

I don't really know what I think is romantic. I mean, I never think about it that much. If I had to say, I probably would say what I'm supposed to. There's stuff about how the moon is pretty and fancy restaurants and candles and the color red, the stuff that all the girls say in the romance movies that Misty and May and Dawn and Mom drag me to sometimes. But I don't really want to do any of that stuff. When I think about spending time with a girl (not that I like a girl or anything), I usually think about doing fun stuff. When I think about kissing her, I kinda think about doing it when we're out camping. Not that there's a her.

Because there isn't.

But I'm only thinking about it because I have to read all these stupid big books so I can pass a test. I'm doing the Indigo League again…sort of. I want to challenge the Elite Four, but I don't want to do the Silver Conference. Well, I _do _want to do the Silver Conference, but all the deadlines already happened, and I don't want to wait another whole year to go for my shot. So if I do really well on this stupid test I can challenge the Elite Four, though I don't know what pokémon mating has to do with battling. It's on the test though. So I'm thinking about mating.

Well, not…okay, a little bit of human mating. But not with, like…a specific girl. Because I don't like anyone. But I could one day, and if I did, she'd be really pretty and really nice and even Gary would be jealous because I got a really hot girl like her. So I was thinking about what kind of girl I would like and what kind of romantic things we would do together and I mostly thought about traveling together and camping. But not like how I camp with other people. Because I don't like them like that.

The doorbell is ringing so I run away from all the stupid books and all the stupid mating stuff and open the door. Misty's there, and her arms are all filled with books and I laugh so hard I have to hold my stomach to keep steady.

She stomps the snow off her sneakers and mutters, "I come bearing gifts," while little dots of white float off her hair and clothes. I think about closing the door and laughing even harder, but those books look really, really good. I need all the help studying I can get, and Misty always seemed like she was pretty good at studying. She can probably help me with this more than ever.

Plus it's been a few months since I've seen her. It's funny, because when she was traveling with me, I never got so excited to see her. Not so much anymore. Whenever she shows up I just want to hug her (but Misty doesn't really like hugs, so I don't) and laugh and I forget how to breathe sort of. It's a good feeling though. It makes my stomach sort of feel like its twisting, but that feels good too. And Misty wasn't pretty when she was ten, but now she is. I mean, she still wears her hair short and she usually puts it in some kind of ponytail to keep it out of her face, and she's not like super shapey like her sisters or TV models, but she's still pretty, somehow.

So I let her in and say "hi" and "thanks" and while she's standing at the doorway sweeping all the snow off her pants and onto the carpet (my mom's going to ask me later about why I didn't clean it but I hate doing that) I go over and I get a poker thingy and poke at the fire to make it bigger. I love doing that. It gets all warm in the house and we don't really have a good heating system, so the fire is something I learned how to do when I was very small.

Two cups of hot chocolate, four big puffy marshmallows and then we have conversations. Her first, since she's the guest. Sometimes I have to pretend I'm interested, but she does a good job talking about stuff I like to hear, and when the stuff is stuff I don't like she makes sure she makes it funny and interesting. Then she starts talking about her boyfriends and stuff, and that makes me feel nauseous. I think this is because I hate romance stuff. I'm saying stuff a lot.

So I start talking about the big stupid Trainer's Exam.

"So, this is how we skip visiting old friends?" she teases. "We don't retour the region, just take the exam so we can go straight to the Elite?"

"Would you come traveling with me?"

She giggles and leans forward. "Why, did you lose all your badges?"

"No, but you could come with me to the Indigo Plateau and watch me come in at least top five and earn the right to defeat the Elite." I sigh sadly, looking over the books she brought me. "Anything would be better than this stupid essay test quiz exam…thing."

She thinks a little while, then she says, "Traditional Christmas trees."

"What?"

"You said anything would be better. So, traditional Christmas trees. They came from the pagans that worshipped Thor, the god of thunder. When the holiday came around the sacrificed people and animals to the magic oak tree." She sees that I look confused and she explains, "It was Thor's tree. They got a new one every year and stained the snow with Nordic blood."

"I stand corrected," I say. "Will you ever tell me anything about Christmas history that isn't disturbing?"

"There was a war and all of the troops stopped fighting during Christmas once," she says. "That's nice."

"What books did you bring?"

"Kanto pokémon. I'll named a number, and you give me strengths, weaknesses and named. Bonus points if you can name a few attacks."

I moan. "They can't put all that on the exam!"

"The can and they will. They're terrible, terrible people. They just sit around and daydream about ways to crush your hopes and how to torture you in the process."

"I bet they smother babies in their spare time," I mutter.

"Ash, that's ridiculous. The babies have to be alive for them to drink their blood. It's not nourishing any other way," she jokes. "So tell me all about number thirty two."

I tell her about number thirty two, and number seventeen, and number forty seven, and every other number in between and beyond. We move onto strategies, and other region's pokémon, and the names of the Elite and gym leaders and proper etiquette (which is totally the most terrible thing to ever talk about ever) and, finally, we move onto Kanto history. This makes Misty create a model. Her model is a towel with an apple under it. It's incredibly stupid.

"What is that?" I ask.

"It's the Kanto-Johto continent."

"It's an apple."

"That's the mountains."

"The mountains are made of apple?"

"Well, excuse me for not bringing my clay and kiln to make you a perfect image. I'm going to teach you history, so shut up."

"Why don't you tell me more about the horrors of Christmas?"

She glared for a minute, then says, "Mistletoe is a parasite."

"Tell me more," I say, because I hate history and I'd rather hear her talk about things I can pay attention to.

"And the berries are poisonous."

"It has berries?"

"Poisonous berries," she emphasizes. "Red or white, depending on the species. I like the white better. I think it's prettier. The red just looks bloody. The white looks…I don't know. It looks more romantic that way."

"Romantic?"

"Yeah."

"Hold on, the poisonous plant that's a parasite under which people are forced to make out whether or not they want to is somehow deeply romantic?"

"Yeah. Don't you think so?"

"No! I didn't even think it was!"

She sighs, blushing a little. "We have history to cover."

"Nuh-uh. We have to talk about the mistletoe thing. Why do you think it's romantic?" I insist, because for some reason I think that it's really important to know what she finds romantic. And I think, hey, maybe it'll help me figure out what I think is romantic. But that's not it. Not at all. Because I don't care about romantic things, usually. I only think about it when I'm bored. And I'm not bored. "I don't get it at all."

"I don't know. Some things are just romantic. Like…like the smell of fresh cut grass."

"You get turned on by fresh cut grass?" I laugh, but my stomach sort of jumps and the I think about how, when spring comes, I wanna mow the lawn.

She shouts "No!" and she blushes fully now, and it shoots down her neck and I kind of wonder how far down her blush goes.

"What else do you get turned on by?" I ask, and this seems wonderfully important even though I wouldn't ask anyone else and I know it's making her blush, but I kinda like the way she blushes.

"Let get back to the mistletoe." She ducks her head down. "I mean, history!"

"What did the guys you dated do to turn you on?"

"We're not discussing it."

"Oh really?" I retort, and, in a flash, I have my cell phone in my hand, message typed, and send to all selected. "Tell, or everyone finds out that you cried during _Tangled_."

"You wouldn't waste that on this!"

"Wanna bet?" I taunt, finger going for the send button.

"Brown eyes," she blurts. "I love brown eyes."

Then our eyes meet, and then she looks away really fast. I put my phone on the table and ask, "Like mine?"

"You…you know," she stutters and I'm leaning forward and I can't keep myself from smiling. "Enemies during war would kiss and make up if they met under the mistletoe."

"So this is the end of our fighting?" I think what I just said is flirting, but I'm mostly focused on how good it felt to have my heart beating out of control.

Her nose wrinkles. "There's no mistletoe."

"Consider it me making up for a few years ago."

"Oh, so that's how you want to play it?" She snatches a pencil off the table, tucks it behind her ear, then tackles me into the couch with a seductive, "Call me professor."

My whole body seems to twitch and I completely forget how to breathe and my brain turns off, but my mouth seems to work anyway. "Oh, if we were a couple I would so be on top."

"That's crap!" she gasps. "I'm way more top…per than you."

"Are not."

"Am too. Buffy the Vampire Slayer was one of my role models."

We wrestle. "But you're a sucker for brown eyes."

"I lied."

"You didn't!"

And, all flustered and embarrassed she shouts "I did too!" and pushes me so hard I crack my head on the table and get a black eye. I know it's a black eyes, because I've had them a lot.

And that's immediately followed by a panicked squeal and her rushing off to the kitchen to grab an ice pack to put on it. She knows there is an ice pack, because she is in my house, and I get hurt absolutely all the time. So we always have huge stacks in the freezer. Plus, she's hurt me enough that she knows where to go to get them. And I cheer when she comes back with the blue one in hand because that one is my favorite because it is so, so soft.

"You brought the blue one!"

She rolls her eyes and sets it on my eye gently. "I didn't mean to."

"I think I'm going to die," I say, sounding intensely serious. I'm not, but I think it would be funny and I want to see her laugh more than anything right now, because she looks upset and I hate that. "I think you actually knocked my eye back into my brain, and now my brain is swelling up, and soon there's going to be so much pressure my head is just going to explode and I'll die."

"Don't be ridiculous," she scolds. "You've got more than enough space in your empty head."

"It's not empty."

"We've been friends since we were ten. You'd figure by now you'd know how I react to stuff." She scowls. "You shouldn't have teased me about it, stupid."

"I'm the victim!" I protest. "I knew you'd hit me but I didn't think you'd smash my face into the table."

"I pushed you. The hitting the table part was all gravity."

"I shouldn't have teased you about thinking I was hot, I guess." I flick my eyes up at her and grin and hope that she'll tell me she does think I'm hot, and the thought of it makes my whole body feel completely tingly.

"You shouldn't have made fun of my model," she mutters, blushing. It's not what I wanted to hear, but I like the blush. I can't stop thinking about ripping her shirt off and seeing how far it goes and my head is pounding. "It was just for explaining purposes."

And then I say, "What else do you know about mistletoe?"

She laughs. "That it's only up for Christmas nowadays. How much do you think I know?"

"Absence makes it more important or something, right?"

"It makes the heart grow fonder," she explained. "It falls under all those crazy rules like…like _love sought is good, but given unsought is better_."

She smiles at the poetic words, and I forget how to breathe again.

And I think that this is the most romantic thing I've ever experienced, and I don't care if it's not what I'm supposed to think is romantic. It is. It really is. And though I can't kiss her (and I definitely don't like her) I feel like next time, I'll make something romantic for her. I learn a romantic poem and recite Shakespeare and give her chocolate and everything I possibly can. Because maybe she'll smile. And maybe she'll blush.

And I'll see how far that blush goes.


	18. Going

**Slutty Dawn Crystalgurl**

**Reveal a secret in a passionate moment steveaaml**

* * *

**Going**

"Dawn," he whispered hotly, trailing his lips down her neck. "Mew, you're beautiful."

"Don't talk," she said just as fiercely. "Just…be."

Paul's teeth dug into her collarbone and she tossed her head back with a moan. Hey eyes rolled to the back of her head and her lips parted and her hips grinded into his. It all slid away so perfectly. There was no contest tomorrow. There was no dress to fit. No make up to smear, to wipe away any signs of stress. Ash wasn't panicking over being a Master. Brock's breeder business wasn't failing. Kenny wasn't after her, asking her for something more than sex. Something more than being that meant thinking and loving and sharing and so much stress that she needed to get away from. She simply was. She was with Paul. She was being kissed. She was arching to his every touch.

And when it happened, when it all finished, she gave a wordless grunt and went limp.

He gasped "Dawn!" a moment after.

He named had never sounded so dangerous, so…love before. When they slept in the same bed and his arm curled around her waist, cuddling with her like he was Kenny and like they had something outside of sweaty sheets and darkened corners, and she almost screamed because of it. Because she was looking for someone who would forget her name by the time morning came.

"Where are you going, babe?"

Going. That's all. She was going. Verbs. No predicate. No direct object. Nothing but her and a verb. She was dressing. She was panicking. And he was sitting up, and asking her for ice, for a soda, and saying that he would treat her to one if she wanted, and maybe they could go out to dinner tonight.

She was going.

"Dawny, babe?" Paul sat up, the nickname strange on his lips. "You're busy? I can drop you off wherever."

She was going.

* * *

That settles it. I'm a one sided ikarishipper. Is that weird, to ship something from one side?

I'm sorry if this sucks. I have finals and I read this over a few times, and it SEEMED pretty good. I'm just afraid I'll come back in twenty minutes and fall to my knees with a dramatic Spanish soap opera scream of, "POR QUE?"


	19. Fortune Teller

**Loving someone who doesn't love you back, from AshKetchumForever.**

**Shame on you for making me write something mildly depressing! Don't you know that's what Herois for? :P  


* * *

**

**Fortune Teller **

Drew abhorred weddings. It wasn't because he wasn't a fan of love, because he didn't mind watching two people kiss and be happy and serve him cake. The problem was that everyone in the family was invited, regardless as to whether or not they had actually met the bride and groom before, and that meant that his rather distantly related cousin (about four times removed, he guessed) would appear in her pretty little party dress and bother him, and under the special magic that was being related, she never fell for his charms.

"Pick a color," Misty said, holding out the fortune teller to the green haired boy beside her.

He blinked, eyeing the thing suspiciously. After all, just a few minutes ago they had been having a long, complicated discussion about how May had travelled with Ash and how nice of a traveling partner he was. He still wasn't sure where the paper had come from, or the pencil she used to write on it. He assumed that she had magic annoying cousin powers, and could pull out a nuclear bomb if she had the slightest inclination it would bug him.

But now she was rolling her eyes at him. "I'm bored, sure me. Just pick a color so that I can tell your fortune."

He looked over at it, wrinkling his nose as the sloppy handwriting. "Grape isn't a color."

"Is too," she countered, hands staying steady.

"Violet is a color," Drew corrected smugly. "Grape, like purple, is a lie from the Crayola company to sell more crayons."

She smacked him across the back of the head. "Stop being a pretentious ass and pick a color."

"Green."

"G-R-E-E-N," she spelled, the fortune teller flashing in her hands. She sighed and held it out again. "Pick a number. Unless you have something snarky about those too?"

He examined them for a moment, then snorted. "You should have put a line so I would know which one it is. It's either a six or a nine."

"Six then," she said sharply. It flashed again. He tapped the six. She held the fortune teller close to herself, flipping up the tab and reading, "Man up, there's a cute brunette who doesn't hate you even though you're a horrible person. You should tell her and stop being a little coward. You are by far the worst cousin ever. I hate that we're related."

"That's a lot for a little fortune teller."

"The fates have a lot to say."

"I think you wrote that."

"I can promise you I did not."

"Is that because it's blank?"

She paused, then ripped the paper and tossed it on the floor. "Yes."

He sighed. "Are you really that close to May?"

"I hardly know her." Misty shrugged. "Still, I know she likes you, and I'm pretty sure you like her, so why don't you just ask her out so I can feel like I did something nice for her? I mean, hell, she saved my life. The least I can do is try to set her up."

"She saved your life?" he said, sitting up a little straighter.

"I was going to fall into a pit with lava and daggers and she swooped in on a rope and saved me," she said seriously. "It was amazing. She was like Laura Croft."

"That was nice of her, but I think you're a liar."

"Maybe. Go ask her out."

"Maybe I don't want to."

"I had a fortune teller that said different before I ripped it up and littered it on the floor."

"You wrote that fortune teller."

"All the more reason for it to be right," she chirped. "So, when are you going to ask her out?"

"I'm not."

"Come on!" she moaned, tugging at his sleeve. "Just ask her out! It's really not that much to ask. You already like her, she likes you, and she's cute! You can't lose on this one. You're going on a date with a cute, albeit a bit ditzy brunette. But, hey, who doesn't like them ditzy?"

"She's not ditzy."

Misty pinched her fingers together. "A _little_ bit."

"She is not."

"Ooh, defensive."

"I'm not being defensive."

"You seem pretty defensive."

"Well, I'm not. I'm just correcting you. I like correcting you."

"Because it's so rare."

"You need to work on your sarcasm. That sounded sincere."

She dropped his sleeve and opted for punching his shoulder with each sentence she spoke, and Drew refused to flinch though he knew that he would be bruised for sure in the morning. "Ask out May! You gave her roses! I mean, you might as well as this point. I don't see how you could get more cheesey than that. You're not Tuxedo Mask, you know."

He reddened and glared at the floor. "I don't want to ask her."

"You totally do, Endymion."

"What?"

She groaned. "Jees, you have a _sister _don't you? Don't you know _Sailor Moon_?"

"Not that well."

"Ask her out!" Misty whined.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because she doesn't like me like that!" Drew snapped. "She's travelling around with this Ash kid, who's taking her on all these crazy adventures. Do you really think she's going to bother looking at me? It's the two of them and _Brock _alone in the woods, and Ash is turning thirteen. He's just getting into his kissing years. I'd be surprised if they weren't together already!"

"She wouldn't," Misty said softly.

"Why not? If he asks her I'm sure-"

She cut him off, gripping the bottom of her dress tight in her hands. "He wouldn't."

"So, you're stuck in the unrequited boat with me, huh?" he asked.

She leapt up so violently she knocked her chair over, then raced away from him. He could see that her cheeks would reddening and could tell she was doing one of those weird breath holding strange breathing things that girls do when they try not to cry. Not that he cared, of course. He hated weddings because of her, and she was just his annoying older cousin, so what did he care if he made a girl he saw once every other year cry?

Because he'd _made her cry_. That's why he cared, dammit.

And, the wedding already ruined as the bride let out a horrible shriek at wine spilling on her wedding dress, Drew went to go seek shelter with Misty, in hope that they could lick their wounds together and talk about how stupid May and Ash were, and how if they had kids the universe would implode from the stupidity, and then the cousins would make witty, clever jokes that the objects of their affections would never get, and they would laugh to keep away the bitterness.

At least family love, even distant family love, was better than no love at all.


	20. Karaoke

I've been working on a contesthipping one, which should be out next week, so here's this little thing to tide you over!

**Karaoke Tomoyo Kinomoto**

* * *

Misty didn't sing. In fact, in four years of travel together, Ash had heard her do so three times (not including birthday parties). Once, to help jigglypuff; another, in excitement for the safari zone; and, a final time as quieting togepi after three sleepless nights. That last time had been the longest, as she spent half an hour rocking back and forth, humming a long lullaby over and over, and humming when she forgot the words. It had been so unreal, when he woke up in the morning he wouldn't have believed it happened. Well, at least he wouldn't have if she didn't blush so bad when he asked her about it.

"Why don't you sing more often?" he asked.

"I don't like it," she replied, hiding her blushing cheeks behind her hands. "Bad show memories."

So, Ash decided it was time for her to make new memories to wipe out the old ones, because he liked it when she sang. Her movie was nice, and she knew some songs that he didn't, as she proved every time she took over the radio. His songs were usually heavy rock, and he knew most of what they meant. Her music varied in everything but how confusing they were.

"Even I know a hairdryer won't stop snowing!"

"It's about kids, and how much the stuff you say to them messes with their heads, since they don't know any better."

"What about them taking her clothes?"

She laughed. "No idea."

He would laugh with her, and they would talk. Sometimes Brock would come over and argue with her, and Ash would awe over their fights because he knew they were speaking English but she didn't understand a word of it. But that was okay, because when Misty played classical music they would talk about what the song felt like, and Brock would stare on and look confused.

The first time she looked confused about music was when he dragged her onto the stage, their friends cheering, and he pressed the cool metal of the microphone into her hand. She gawked at it, then at him, trying to understand how he could have betrayed her like that.

"What?" she whispered, gawking.

"Sing."

"Sing what?' she hissed. "What do you want me to sing? What do they want me to sing?" And she looked out at the room with past shows flashing through her mind, because singing was for people. Singing was for those who heard, and if she did it well they would clap, and if she did it poorly they would boo and her sisters would tease and she would cry and-

"What do you want to sing?"

She blinked. "They won't have it."

"They might," he argued. "If they don't sing it anyway."

"They won't like it."

"So? I sang and they clapped." He grinned. "It's for fun."

"Why?" she insisted. "Why would…?"

"Well, there is this thing…" his voice dropped low, as if telling her a secret, and he paused dramatically. "It's like touching.Except…you don't touch."

"What?" she breathed.

"Back in the day, it just went without saying at all."

"Stop that," she whispered. But her face was bright red as the music started up behind her, playing one of her favorite songs, and a song about hwy she should start singing, not to mention having Ash serenade her on a stage in front of a large group of people, many of whom she had met before.

"All the world's history gradually dieing of shock." He pushed the microphone up to her mouth, urging her on. "There is this thing that's like talking, except you don't talk."

She swallowed and, ever so softly, sang in a cracking voice, "_You…sing._"

And so she did. Although she was nervous, and half of her attention was still focused on how much the audience seemed to like it. But gradually, she opened up, and she forgot why she was supposed to be afraid by the time she belted, "_Sing for the teachers who told you that you couldn't sing!"_

It was why she loved music, the effortless expression. She sang out her sadness, then sang out her happiness, and danced with Ash and Brock and laughed herself sick of it all. She didn't care much that there was still an audience that had moved onto other things, either glaring or ignoring the kids who had taken over karaoke night.

She hugged Ash tight, spinning around with a happy giggle. "Thank you, Mr. Pokémon Master."

"I like it when you sing."

She pulled back, arching an eye brow his way.

He blushed.

* * *

Also, I coauthored a story with themagebear called, "The Field Badge". It's my first time coauthoring at all, so if you could pop over and check that out, I'd be eternally grateful!


	21. Brownies

**Love potion – too addicted to fiction

* * *

**

**Brownies  
**

May was not a goddess in the pokeblock-making kitchen. Practice had taken the bitterness and strangeness from her creations, and training under Brock made every little cube as nutritious as they could be. Granted, each one was barely consumable by a human's standard, but her pokémon found them satisfactory. Except for Glaceon, who would wrinkle her nose at almost all pokémon food and yip until she was given table scraps from May's dinner plate.

Still, Drew continued to mock May about her pathetically poor pokeblocks, until one day she…snapped, a bit. Not in a crazy psycho murderer way, but in a mildly pissed off teenage female way that involved the slightest bit of planning. This meant the day after a particularly snarky remark about her sad skill in the kitchen was spent collecting ingredients and consulting Brock on what herbs did and how safe they were for humans and getting some extra kitchen advice. Two more days were devoted to perfecting the recipe and rather sneakily trying them out on her brother.

…Well, she knew it wouldn't kill him or anything close to that. So, it wasn't that bad, really. It was science, anyway, and Max liked science, so she was doing stuff he might have to get used to in the future. Probably. She didn't quite know what people did in science school.

"You fed me experimental pokeblocks?" He gawked with all the horror his rather adorable face could muster. At thirteen, he still looked more like a child than an adult, but he was old enough for her pokeblocks to work the way she wanted, and old enough to having his very own slakoth clinging around his neck and dosing on his chest.

"You're fine," the fifteen year old retorted, stirring her wooden spoon in her big, red, plastic bowl, where a chocolate liquid swirled. "Besides, I only had you eat the pokeblock once. The other times they were brownies."

"Spiked brownies!"

May passed in her stirring. "Isn't it only spiked if it's alcohol?"

"I think you're missing the point" he idly scratched at his slakoth and she picked up his stirring. "And don't you think this is a little over the top? I mean, he just insulted your cooking."

"But he did it a lot," she protested. "And why do you want your experimentation to go to waste? After all that stuff you ate, don't you want to see someone else suffer?"

"Your brownies made me serenade the girl with the yellow hair that lives down the block, and I don't even know her name."

"Exactly, so imagine a guy who likes to be all cool and aloof going after any girl he sees. Not only is it embarrassing, but it'll ruin his reputation. If I get anything on camera, I bet I can blackmail and embarrass him for life." She laughed, bouncing on her toes. "Then he'll never tease me ever again!"

Max stared. "You don't see a single flaw in your plan?"

"No." She snorted. "It's perfect."

"Really think about it," Max urged, leaning forward. "You don't think there's any way this could backfire on you?"

"No."

"Girls are so stupid." He dissolved into giggles, rocking back in his chair and covering his face in his hands. "Set up a camera, May. This is gonna be hilarious."

"For me!"

"Oh, not just for you," her brother snickered. "Not just for you."

May did not ask him what he meant, because he was her little brother and, as such, was always wrong when it came to her plans.

So May went about baking up her chocolates, chuckling to herself as she worked. Not pokeblocks now, after all, there wasn't a chance he would eat one if she offered. Brownies, however, were people food, and he would eat it if only to mock her for cooking so poorly. Well, she hoped, and hesitated with her walnuts, wondering if he liked them. Would he eat them plain? Was he deathly allergic to nuts? She definitely didn't want to kill him.

She chewed her lip and debated rapidly with herself, and finally got a second bowl to split up the batter, adding nuts to one and leaving the other plain. So that was taken care of, and she whipped out her baking pans and poured in the thick, cake-like batter. _Half an hour,_ she thought as she punched the number into the timer (which was, in fact, not a half an hour but twenty five minutes),_ and then I've got my revenge. Drew'll be a lovesick puppy in no time._

And no, she didn't feel a little sad thinking of him fawning over some girl, and she didn't feel mad and she most definitely was not jealous of him flirting over some girl who would probably kiss him because she thought he was cute, but he _wasn't_. Because Drew was a stupid jerk with stupid hair and he had an ego that was so big it suffocated her and shut up about it because she did not suffocate because he was very pretty and it made her body do funny things.

"Why are you talking to yourself?"

She spun around, surprised to see Drew sitting across the counter. He was smirking, the bastard, the hair falling into his eyes in a way that was just short enough to not be mistaken for an emo style. His smirk wasn't cute, though, it was annoying and that was why she flushed and ducked her head while she thought up a fitting reply. This fitting reply, apparently, was, "Shut up." May is only human. Her witty repartees can't all be winners.

"You're the one who's talking to herself," he countered, and his very, very pretty eyes met hers. "What monstrosity are you cooking up now?"

She half wanted to shout that he was pretty like a girl, laugh like a five year old, and run away, but she held herself firm. "Brownies."

"Ah," he snickered. "Gave up on pokeblocks?"

"No!" she fumed, crossing her arms. "I wanted to make brownies, and I'll have you know that they're absolutely delicious, like a lot of the stuff I cook. You can ask anyone, even Brock."

He cocked his head to the side, and he did not look cute and vulnerable when he was confused or surprised. Really. "Can Brock cook?"

"Brock's an amazing cook!" she gasped, realizing he had never traveled with Ash and was most likely stuck with mediocre cooking. She reeled her sympathy back in because she did not care about him and she was out for revenge and glared. "And I'm a great cook too."

He leaned over and dipped a finger in the batter, then sucked it clean with a shrug. "It's okay."

Her heart stopped for many reasons. The first was that, although she was almost as good as denying it as Ash, she was a teenager with some wonderful hormones pumping through her system. May felt her legs turn into jelly and her mind filled with many unwanted images of her covered in chocolate and other things that are much too dirty to be talked about in a T-rated fanfiction. Most of which involve words like "hot" and "yes" being repeated many times.

But, once that horrible wave of sex had passed, she realized the other problem. She didn't know what would happen if the batter was eat raw. Brock had said some stuff about how plants were usually more effective cooked, with the breaking down of some compounds already started, so she tried to calm herself, thinking that the plant wouldn't kill him just because he ate them raw. Instead, she forced a smile onto her face at the sort of compliment and said something along the lines of "I told you so."

"What's the stuff that looks like…?" He grinned and pointed wickedly to her herbs.

She stared for a moment, trying to grasp his insinuation, and then she got it and she shrieked, "It's not! It's not drugs! They're just herbs! Brock gave them to add to some pokeblocks!"

"I thought you were making brownies."

"I am!"

"So why'd you bring the herbs?"

She stared at him for a long moment, trying to figure out a good answer. May found herself entirely unable to come up with any kind of reasonable response, well, one that wouldn't involve her getting caught. May had never really been good at lying, however, and usually avoided it at all costs. Revenge involved lying, though, and she was very close, and she had to be strong. So she looked him right in the eye and declared, "That's a great question."

She won, and was content in her victory.

He blinked. "Can I have an answer?"

Damn! He was good.

"No."

"Why?"

"Because." She breathed in deep. "Because you're an ass."

"That's the best you got?"

She had managed to pull a swear word out, and that had been her final line of defense. "Yes."

"So I could, say, eat one of those with no side effects?" he inquired.

"Sorry?"

"It's not marijuana-"

"No!"

"And they're edible. Nutritious." His eyes met hers once more, and this time the challenge in them made her shudder. "So I could eat one, and it wouldn't do anything except make my hair nicer, right?"

"Not right."

"May, you have two choices." Something told her she would hate both of these choices and that her plan was crashing down around her in tiny little burning pieces. Probably because her plan _was_, in fact, crashing down around her in tiny little burning pieces. "The first is that you're telling the truth, and these are for your pokémon, and they're fine for me to eat. The second is that you're lying, and that you're poisoning your pokémon or making special brownies."

"You don't make marijuana brownies. You smoke it," she stated.

Drew gawked a moment. "And you travel alone?"

"Yes!" She sniffed. "I'm very good at traveling alone."

He sighed slowly. "Point being, May, can I or can't I eat this herb?"

Now there were many, many lies May could have used. That they were poisonous just to humans, that they had weird side effects, that it was only safe once baked, that she could have just tugged it away and said they were rare and she wouldn't waste them on him. But she was confused about her plan going wrong and her mind was very insistent on going back to that sucking chocolate off his finger scene. So, instead of solving the problem, she watched him pluck a plant and pop it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.

"This tastes horrible."

"Herbs do that," she said breathlessly, unable to believe the horror she had witnessed and quite positive she had just killed a man.

"So, what does it do?"

"Huh?"

"The herb. Does it make my hair shiny?"

May's eyes abruptly rolled up to the back of her head and she hit the floor in a dead faint. Drew, ever responsible, let his eyes open wide and peered over the edge of the counter. Satisfied that she was unconscious, he swept her up and took her back to his room with a sigh. He set her down on his bed and checked under her hair to see if she had bashed her head open, letting his fingers lightly roam in the search for blood or bumps, and enjoying how silky her hair felt. Thankfully, she hadn't, and about ten minutes later she sat up.

"What happened?" she asked.

Drew was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at her in a very strange way. "You fainted."

"I what?" she yelped.

"Fainted." He smiled, which was a very weird smile as well and also made her feel like she should exit the scene immediately. Unfortunately, she was still a tad dizzy and she was not positive was day it was. May had a very slight concussion. She would get over it, though, and she was functioning quite decently at the moment. Drew tapped her chin lightly. "Have you eaten today or did you spend all your time making these brownies?"

"I ate, and I didn't faint." She glared, crossing her arms over her chest. "I don't faint."

She was suddenly in his arms again, tilted back with his face just an inch from his. Due to her slight concussion, May had to fight the urge to throw up and faint again.

But Drew was not done being creepy, and his lips brushed he lips with every word he spoke, his breath smelling like mint and making her mind fuzzier than it already was. One hand swept up to brush the hair out of her eyes. "Of course, you did. How else could I carry you back like a princess?"

"_Oh!_" she said, her eyes widening. "_Backfire._ Okay, I get it now."

"Although I hate to see you in pain, the fact that I got to hold you in my arms almost made it worth it." He kissed her cheek softly and nuzzled into her neck. "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, and I want to spend every waking moment of my life with you. When I sleep, I want to see you in my dreams. I love you more than anything else in the world."

She shook her head (very slowly, as she did have a concussion) and sighed, "I really doubt that."

She was kissed soundly.

And then he pulled away, the girl in his arms completely stunned and half limp, and smirked. "But then again, the fact that you tried to drug me and make me look stupid because I teased you is dampening this whole crazy in love thing."

"Huh?" she blinked. Which, actually, wasn't because the kiss was stunning, but because this was a very weird thing for a person under a love potion to say.

"Here's a hint: if you want to keep a secret," he whispered in her ear, his hot breath making her shiver (and, once more she noticed, smelling distinctly like mint), "You really shouldn't tell your brother."

She stared at him. "My ears are ringing."

He sighed and kissed her forehead, and she allowed him to hold her on the bed, because she was awfully confused and trying very hard to remember if it was Tuesday or Monday. It was Friday, but she did remember the days of the week. Drew was content to know that she seemed to remember her revenge plot and seemed to know who he was, so they probably didn't need to see a doctor. So he smoothed her hair and rested his head on hers.

And, with more sweetness than could ever be brought out with a hormone inducing love potion, he murmured, "You have a concussion, stupid."

**(PAGEBREAK)**

The first time May gets in this fic and I give her a concussion. Oh, May…I'm sorry. I think you're charming, honestly, and you're such a fun character. I'm sorry I made you faint and crack your head on the floor, but you got kissed by Drew and he's super dreamy! I mean, he's like, Bam! Break me off a piece of his Kit Kat Bar! I think. I don't even know what that means, unless it's a sex thing, in which case that sounds painful and something you need a safeword for. I recommend TARDIS.

Well, have a lovely week, and, to any of you who have read "Snapshots Make the Story", who would be interested in a full fledged story of that? Kael Hyun made the suggestion and, honestly, I've been thinking pretty seriously about it.


	22. Betrayal

I had a different one planned for this week, but time snuck up on me, so I had to use a short one. *sigh* On the bright side, the next chapter of Hero should be up this week or next week!

**betrayal Kael Hyun**

**

* * *

**

She's not sure if she's changing. She's twenty three now, and she has her hair bobbed short so she never has to deal with it, because she's busy. Because the gym is hers and the League breathes down her back with all their rules and regulations and constant inspections and scoldings if her toe even taps the line. She's moved out of the gym and into the house she inherited at eighteen, and the memories and the dust half chokes her when she tries to sleep, but she's too afraid of ghosts she's sure are haunting the place to clean.

But that's all pretty close to who she used to be.

The reason she's not sure is because she gets a letter, and all it says is "I know what's in the box" and she's desperate, very desperate, to know what that means. That's no different. She's always ben curious, and the fact that the box is filled with the scent of her mother's perfume, spritzed along pages and pages of things that make her head pound and her hands break out in a cold sweat only makes the curiosity worse. So that's normal. That makes sense, at least, to be curious.

But James is the one who gave her the letter and Jessie was the woman who handed her a glass of green juice that tasted like wood but settled her nerves. And the three of them – Jessie, James and Meowth – are the ones that invite her back to the base. And she blinked up at them and she said yes, and she doesn't know if the old Misty would do that. She doesn't know that it's a bad thing. She just knows that she's so scared she can't feel anything anymore. She thinks it's called shock, but she doesn't know if the medical term means something else.

The man she faces is a hulking mass of muscle, but he smiles kind enough that she think his looks might be deceiving, but the basic parts of her mind keep her hair standing up on end and make her want to scream at him so he will go away, until he offers food, nice food, that's sweet and melts on her tongue, and she realizes she's so hungry she hasn't thought about poison, then figures she's dead already, and devours another treat.

"Have you found out?" he asks.

She lets her fingers slow as they grab another snack, and she looks up at him, feeling entirely cornered. She's forgotten her manners, and she's so startled she half wonders how human she looks before hse breaks his gaze and looks down, pushing treats into her mouth in hopes that the food will make her feel normal again.

"I'm not out to use you if that's what you think," he explains.

She pauses. She really hadn't thought of that, but she doesn't imagine how she could be of use anyway, because she really wasn't that strong or quick and though things about her were different they weren't incredible. And, anyway, he doubts he would want to try and mess with her, confused and animalistic as she guesses she appears. So she wiped her face on the back of her arm and rocks back in her chair and waits for him to explain, because that's the only reason she's here.

"Your parents didn't want this."

"You know them?" she asks, and her voice is so strange she jumps, because she hasn't heard it in days and she never remember it as this sharp before.

"I did. I didn't want it either, but it happened. It happened to many kids, and that's when I started Team Rocket."

"A band of thieves?"

"Petty thievery raises an eyebrow. Usurping a government gets a warhead on your base. I'm out to stop the League."

She grins and it's so cruel and knowing that she sees the man shiver. "They found you out," she says, because she knows he would never blink her way otherwise. "You want a spy."

"More than just a spy. You're essential. You'll be paid well."

"She decides she likes that he doesn't dance around topics, that he knows how well aware she is and makes his offer without any tricks. She wonders if he knows that she was made of tricks, that she had his guard's knife in her pocket and she could have snatched his gun as well, provided she hasn't hated guns because they were only good for killing while knives were used for much, much more.

"I have friends in the League," she says, and they both know that the plural isn't needed for who she's thinking of.

"Do you want revenge?"

"I want to stop."

"Stop what?"

He would understand without her saying so, so she says, "_Stop_."

And he says, "We _need _you."

She lowers her face and sighs, "I know."

And she feels her old self die, because her old self would never work for Team Rocket. But her old self was stupid and hadn't had the facts. She does.

Now she wonders if she likes who she becomes.


	23. Helping

D I N O B O T - wounded soldier

Tomoyo Kinomoto - wartime

* * *

"Once upon a time," Misty says, because that is how all good stories start, and she knows this has to be a good one. "There was a wicked king. He took money from his people and used it to decorate his palace. He made it large and beautiful, with all the finest gems and shiniest marble in the world he rode in a carriage that was drawn by seven noble stallions, who were trained to run as beautifully as they did swiftly, who had manes of fire and coats so white they blinded when the sun set. And, above all else, he assured that he was the only one to have these treasures, and cursed those who dared to believe they had something better."

"I'm too old for fairy tales," Max whispered. "And I know you're just talking about the war. It doesn't make it better just because you make it old fashioned or add once upon a time."

She sets the washcloth back in the bucket, the water warm and heating quickly thanks to the warmth from the fire. Her blue-green eyes catch her partner's across the campsite, and Ash stands, stroking Pikachu one last time before he leaves her dozing and comes to sit by the younger boy. His arm folds around him, letting him rest his head on Ash's shoulder, and the sound of the bucket being emptied and refilled by Misty's water types floats to them.

Ash whispers, though there isn't anyone around for miles and he doesn't need to. "Are you sure you don't want to hear the story?"

"I don't know."

Misty rinses out her washcloth and drags it over her skin, the cloth coming away stained with dust and dirt. She shudders at it, because she misses her showers, then dunks the cloth again to continue her makeshift bath. Her mind has gone out to lunch for a while, dreaming of hot running water and a bed with down pillows and comforters. She stayed herself enough to scrub her hands more vigorously, and wonder how to make soap, before she goes and dumps the bucket again.

"I can tell the story," Ash suggests softly, his hand rubbing the younger boy's shoulder. "If I tell it, you know it'll be a happy ending."

Max wants to argue that saying it will be a happy ending in a story and actually having a happy ending in life are different, and even if Ash tells the story it won't make a difference. It won't change what has happened, and that's what he's really concerned about. But he knows how worried they are, and that telling the story will raise their hopes, that it'll make them feel if they feel better, that will change the outcome, will give them more confidence. So he lets them act through him and he nods.

"So, there was a princess."

Misty blinks, coming back to herself and says, "Peasant."

Ash glares at the girl's correction. "And how do you know?"

"Is she the king's daughter?"

"No. The king's a jerk. He doesn't get a wife or a concubine."

"The fact that you know the word concubine aside, the girl has to be a peasant, then."

"Could be a noble," Max suggests, and Misty agrees.

Ash fumes over being wrong and hisses, "Fine! A peasant girl!"

"Don't you love bugging him?" she teases, saying it to Max but sure to say it loud enough that Ash can hear. "If you look carefully, you can see that when he's embarrassed, the tip of his nose gets red."

"So, a peasant," he says as they giggle. "She was the prettiest peasant in the whole world. I mean, really pretty. Not only were the other peasants jealous, but the nobles were too. Especially a mean, ugly redhead who always made fun of her hot stable boy, Ash, who looked like he had jumped out of a romance novel and had a great body and had all the peasant girls from the city coming into his haystacks every night."

"By _great_ he means fat," she counters easily, and he grits his teeth at being bested again.

"She had long brown hair and big blue eyes and her name…" Ash's face softened. "Her name was Mary. She was sweet and charming and loved by people far and wide, especially by her family and friends. But nobody loved the king, because he was evil, and all he knew was how to hate people. He was jealous that Mary had something he did not, and he stole her away from everyone, hurting many in the process."

"The bastard," Misty whispers.

Ash shakes his head at the word. "Not in front of Max."

"No, she's right," he says, swallowing. "The king is a bastard."

"And a coward, to run when people came to fight, to save Mary." She clenches her fists in the rage and the water from the rag drips down her knees and gathers in puddles in her socks. "Instead of fighting for her, as if she was a flag in a game."

"Misty," Ash sooths, putting his hands over hers.

"And damn that stupid redhead who was moving so damn slow and didn't even think to ask the man with the car, just ran off into the woods and wasn't there when all of the real problems went down."

"The stable boy was there and he didn't do a thing."

"I was there," Max says hotly. "I didn't save her. We all tried to save her and we failed, and my sister was taken away in a jet, and I can't feel anything from the waist down, so stop trying Misty! Rubbing them isn't going to bring the feeling back no matter what temperature the water is."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be!" he cries. "It's not over, she's not gone! The story's barely started! We can get her back!"

"Max, we'll try, but what are we-?"

"You're not a noble, Misty, and you're no stable boy!" he shouts. "You're warriors, you're pokémon trainers and good ones, and I'm sorry, but neither of you are doctors, not even close. So stop worrying over me and do what you're good at."

"Causing the wounds?' she asked hollowly.

"No," he says, and he squeezes Ash's hand desperately, shaking. "Preventing them."


	24. Trapped in a Closetish

OOC confession from Crystalgurl

And being trapped in a small space with the object your affections, which, surprisingly, I haven't gotten yet. Except for Seven Minutes in Heaven, but I think that's a bit different.

**Trapped in a Closet**

"We're trapped in a security room," May paused, almost dramatically, then looked at Drew with the most serious expression she could muster, "In a Team Magma base."

Drew glared back, clearly not at all amused at the current situation. After all, he didn't have a single pokémon with him. And, well, even if he did, he was a bit ashamed to say that he couldn't battle his way out of a paper bag. But, dammit all to hell if he couldn't make a Feebas look gorgeous while flopping around in lava! So, Drew retorted to this statement (and his unresolved masculinity insecurities) with: "Amazing job, May. Now, if I have five iotas of patience, what happens if you use up all of it?"

"I'm just saying, it's weird. Weird." She sighed, then slowly said, "Weeeeeiiiirrrd. Hey, Drew, how many times do you think you have to say a word before it stops sounding like a word. I think it's at least ten. Maybe weird's a bad word to use because it's, you know. It's weird. It kind of doesn't sound like a word anyway. Isn't it funny how the word weird is weird, like how the 'e' comes before the 'I'?"

"May, you need to be quiet now," he said, voice shaking with restrained anger. If one took a psychological look at Drew, one could most likely surmise that it all comes back to those masculinity insecurities recently mentioned. After all, he was trapped in quite the perilous situation and found himself completely useless to help the girl. It almost felt like the room was sucking the manly pride right out of him. Or it could have been that he thought he was going to die. "Because if you say weird one more time I can't be held responsible for what I'll do. So how about we all sit together quietly and watch the security cameras?"

"What are we looking for?" she asked eagerly, thinking he had a plan.

"We're not."

"Then why are we here?"

"Because it was the first door with a lock." He glanced her way and narrowed his eyes. "And there are guards out there, and you just had to come and see what was going on and why that stupid kid was crying because he's so sad looking. Well, he was sad looking because a Team Magma agent beat him up, and then he tried to beat _us _up. So now we're stuck in a freaking Team Magma base without a single pokémon with us. Thanks, May."

"Well, we couldn't just leave him, Drew."

"Wanna bet?' he snapped.

"Where's your sense of adventure? I mean, we're fighting an evil organization that's trying to blow up a volcano. This is big stuff. I mean, what if we get into a history book or something? I wouldn't have to pretend to have a camera crew or go on explorations, because it would all be really happening."

"We're kids!" he snarled. "Why should we be doing this? Why not the police?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, but it makes things more fun. We always plunge into things without asking for help first."

"This isn't fun."

She giggled. "Oh really?"

"Yes!" he shouted, slamming his fist on the floor. "This is not what normal kids do! They go on their journeys. Maybe they run into a few rogue pokémon. Maybe they find something rare. They don't take down bad guys or save the world or even see Legendaries! This shouldn't be happening."

"But it is," she whispered.

"But it shouldn't be!"

"So you're lucky today!" she shot back. "You get to do something!"

"I just want to do contests!"

"That's it?"

"Yes!"

"Well, that's boring," she mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. She looked determinedly at the screens, absently noticing some Magmas panicking and running down a hallway, and wondered if they were headed for them. "I mean, I used to want that, but, I mean…you can't go back. Once you traveled with Ash, you can't just let go of the adventures. You have to do something. You have to make a difference. A regular journey just doesn't cut it anymore."

"This kind of thing happens every day to you?"

She shrugged again. "It did back then."

"How do you handle it?"

"You get used to it."

He frowned. "So traveling with me is probably pretty terrible."

"No," she gasped. "No! I love traveling with you! I'd leave if I didn't."

He shook his head. "It's nothing like traveling with Ash."

"Who said it has to be?" She laughed. "I like having a break with you. With Ash, you never get a chance to breathe. You're always running and saving and going crazy. You're a different kind of exciting."

Drew snorted. "How could I be exciting compared to that?"

"Since when are you self-conscious?"

"Since we're about to die." He glared at the door, as if the guard were about to burst in and shoot them at any moment.

"We're about to…?" She blinked, then quieted her giggles and said, "Oh, right, that. I guess anyone would be nervous. The first time I almost died, I was really afraid."

"You think?"

She grinned, glad he was looking away, because she couldn't hide it. "Anything to say before we go?"

"I…I…" He gulped. "I always thought you were amazing, May. I know I didn't show it a lot, and I know I wasn't always nice to you. I still cared, though. I always cared. I always thought you were beautiful and amazing and fantastic and…and even though I made fun of you for pretending you were on some sort of documentary show, I still loved it. I thought it was cute and clever. I'm not used to liking girls. I'm used to them liking me. So I thought if I acted, you know, like you didn't matter or you were really useless, that it would go away, but it didn't. I tried everything I could and it wouldn't.

"I just couldn't stop looking at you. I loved your eyes and your nose and even that really stupid fanny pack you wear. And, May, it's a fashion don't. I hate fanny packs but for some reason I think it's amazing when you do it. I kept giving you roses because I just couldn't help myself, and I really hoped you would figure it out and would like me back. I still wanted the feeling to go away, but that's because I thought you couldn't. Couldn't like me back, I mean. Because you were amazing and I was just, well, cute and good at coordinating."

"Oh, Drew," she said, putting a hand over her heart. "That was sweet."

"I've been thinking about it since we got in here. That's why it's so…you know. Stupid." He blushed, still glaring at the door.

"It's not stu-"

"Crap!" There was a slam and a shower of dust as a sixteen year old Ash tumbled through the ceiling and landed between the two fourteen year olds. He grinned, because, though older, he remained blissfully unaware of sexual tension. The upside to this was that Ash did not have any masculinity issues and cried at the drop of a hat. Well, the drop of a specific hat, but he got over it eventually. The downside to this was that he made no attempt to salvage the moment. "Hey, May. Do you know what to do with this?"

And held out a meteorite.

"Is it evil?" May asked.

"It's a rock," Ash explained, sounding very serious. "Rocks can't be evil because they're inanimate."

She smiled at the big word. "So Brock's here."

"Downstairs with Pikachu." He nodded, then glanced at the boy. "Hey, Drew. What are you doing?"

His ears had gone red as he glared at the floor. "Figuring out the quickest way to die."

Ash nodded seriously, having faced this question many times. "It's harder than you'd think. I would know."

**

* * *

**

May was not kidnapped or injured or humiliated or anything bad! Ha! I knew I could do it! Take that, May! I like you! You're officially in a story where you didn't get something super bad happen to you. Because, I mean, you got beat up in the unown story I did, and then you were all freaked out and bitchy in RT, and then you got strangled everytime you were hopeful in Hero and…holy crap I'm mean. Well, you came out okay in…no. You lost that contest in Blue Roses to a newbie. Well, in Letters Home you…well, nothing bad happened, really. I suppose you were a bit embarrassingly stupid, but you came out okay…ish. And you totally came out okay in Story Time except for the fact that you had to end up with Ash!

All May lovers please take this story as my redemption. I'm very, very sorry for the numbers of terrible things I've done to her.

_…Sort of._


	25. Hamlet

I've been busy throwing up. *sigh* Yay, influenza.

**Virgo Writer suggested Romeo and Juliet

* * *

**

**Hamlet  
**

"Just because I'm not romantic and I don't know all the words from Shakespeare doesn't mean I'm stupid! It just means I'm bad at romance stuff! I'm good at other stuff! Like battling or…or…" He blushed, realizing his list ended there, and fashioned together a clumsy lie to make up for it. "Well, I'm good at a lot of things."

She rolled her eyes. "I didn't say you were stupid for that. You're stupid for other reasons. I said you were an uncultured pig for that stuff." She crossed her arms and glared. "Ash, you've never read a classic or seen one of the great plays of movies. Your mother tries! I know, she's told me. You're just a lost cause. You hate the arts."

"I love art!"

"What about the time we tried to go to that classic art museum?" Brock challenged.

"That wasn't art. They were naked." He crossed his arms as well and pouted. "And half the stuff wasn't even close to the size stuff is supposed to be. I mean, a girl must have done it, because there's no way that a guy messed up that badly."

Which set Brock off into hysterical laughter and Misty squealing "Ash!, you idiot!" before burying her face in her hands while she went red to the tips of her ears.

"I liked the pictures that weren't of naked people."

"Just stop!" she shouted.

The oblivious boy continued, almost mercilessly, "Hey, Misty, is that really what girls look like naked?"

"Oh my Mew," she gasped, hands dropping to reveal a horrified glance towards the twelve year old who dared ask her that question.

Brock, on the other hand, was gleefully merciless, saying, "Yeah, Misty, is that what girl look like naked?"

She screamed and blushed, burying her head back into her hands and shaking it wildly. "Just stop! Just stop! Can't we just go back to talking about Shakespeare?"

"_Romeo and Juliet _is stupid," Ash said helpfully.

That was an argument she could get behind, and jumped to her feet, shouting, "It's one of the most famous plays of all time, Ash Ketchum!"

"And your favorite."

"It's not my favorite," she said, blinking. Just like that all her thunder was gone, replaced with curiosity. "When did I say that?"

"I don't know."

"My favorite play is _the Glass Menagerie_. My favorite Shakespeare play is _Hamlet_." She scowled at him. "I just think the words in _Romeo and Juliet _are pretty. I think everyone in it was stupid. I know better than to even kill myself over some guy."

"_Hamlet_?" he asked.

"_To be or not to be_?" she asked, looking for recognition, and, finding none, continued, "_Alas, poor Yorik? Good night, sweet prince, and a flight of angels sing thee to thine rest?"_

"That's all from _Hamlet_?"

"_Hamlet Prince of Denmark_. _The Lion King _is based on it."

"The Disney movie?" he asked excitedly.

"Uh-huh."

"That's so cool!" he gasped. "No one ever told me that before."

"See? It's good stuff," she chirped. "They're classics for a reason."

"But _Romeo and Juliet _is a classic, isn't it?"

"_Romeo o' Romeo! Wherefore art thou, Romeo?" _Brock said, leaping up dramatically. "_Deny thy father and refuse thy name! Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love and I'll no longer be a Capulet."_

Ash frowned. "I don't know a lot about it...but that's the girls part, isn't it?"

"Uh-huh."

"Why does he _know_ that?"

"I don't know."

"It's creepy."

"Yeah," she said, eying the boy who was acting out the balcony scene on his own, switching between the male and female parts with an ease that she was afraid to think required practice. "Creepy's a good word for it, though I'd choose psychotic. It's a stronger word."

He sighed, looking up at her with big, brown eyes. "You really don't like _Romeo and Juliet_?"

"I love it." She shrugged. "It's just not my favorite."

"But isn't it romantic?"

"Sure, it's romantic." She snorted. "But I'm looking for a Hamlet, a _sane _Hamlet, not a Romeo."

"Is Brock a Romeo?"

"Uh-huh."

"What am I?"

She blushed for a second, then stood up sharply and scolded, "You're an Ash. Now shut up."

* * *

My sick mind says, "Not bad, kiddo. Not bad. Hey, did I remind you that you have the flu? No? Well, here's a fever and an all over body ache. There you go. Good effort."

So, if this is terrible, I'm sorry!


	26. Melody

To anyone who's having update problems, there's a forum called "Fanfic Help Desk" that has the solution. Sorry for the delay!

Also, you may not get this. I don't think the alerts are quite working.

so obvious everyone but them sees it –readerADV

* * *

**Melody**

She lives on an island in the middle of nowhere, and she doesn't think her family quite understands how completely boring for someone like her, for someone who can juggle the names of every tourist she meets in her head and rattle off the specials and opening and closing hours for every restaurant in town. There's only so many times she can read the same five or six interesting books at her library and gets kicked out of the only internet café in the town before she goes crazy from it all, and starts building a computer from spare parts, so she can connect to the internet when she wants and finally find something _new _to think about.

So when she's fourteen and she's chosen to play Lugia's song, she does her best to overact and get into the part. It's _something _to do, after all, and her parents are mad that she keeps tricking the kids down at the dock into thinking that there are monsters that crawl out of the showerhead, and now they're all bathing in the ocean. They want her to do respectable things, thing to help the community, and her desire is to get off her tiny island and find someone to battle wits with.

But, the most important thing to remember about Melody is not that she's bored, but that she's observant. When three kids, kids close to her own age and not older women in bikinis, spring off their ship onto her little home, and they're scared by the villagers in their masks, she looks at them long and hard before leaping forward. She noticed that the redhead took a step closer to the boy, instinctively reaching out for him. Sometimes that meant crushes.

If they were as young as she thought they were, which was ten or eleven, by the looks of them, she knew that crushes were something that were fun because they made kids blush. They made them squeal in denial and shake their heads and try to wipe away the blush on their cheeks, because they weren't near bored enough to have taken the time to find out all about the opposite sex and their strange ways.

But Melody, bored, observant Melody had taken the time. She'd tugged boys into corners and kissed them so her toes tingled. She'd found a sixteen year old just last year who'd put his tongue in her mouth, and after another quick browse in the internet café, she had whisked away her curiosity and now played a game with those who hadn't. She kissed boys and picked their pockets, or got herself a free dinner or two by pretending she wanted a date, and she kissed Ash Ketchum.

She kissed Ash Ketchum right on the cheek and called it a welcome, and she looked at Misty quick to see her reaction, and it was everything she dreamed of and more. Angry and flushed, and Melody sees her at dinner muttering clever insults to her friends and ripping violently into her meal. The older girl grins, because she thinks she's found herself an opponent. Not a fantastic opponent, mind, as the girl was still young, but decent.

Melody figured if she played her part right, she could have an opponent for quite some time. She gets on Ash's good side, his very good side, and taunts the redhead. She doesn't do it just for Misty, because by the end of the first night, she already likes Ash, and the redhead is just a bonus. But the brunette is invited to all his reunions, and thought Misty glares and gets better with her insults, since she's growing after all, Melody is still quicker.

Because Misty is thirteen, and Melody is seventeen, and she knows that the little kid love is wearing off. She knows it when she sees the couple's hands bump and they both blush and wipe their hands on their pants to get rid of the tingles. She knows it when she sees them look at each other for a little too long, or with a little too much happiness, and they rush out of the room to try and collect their thoughts, and Melody uses it all for herself.

She grew up on a little island in the middle of nowhere, and nobody quite understood how boring it was. But it taught her how people worked, and the trio, the trio that ended up as her excuse off the island, taught her how the real world worked, and how those little consequences caught up, and she was ever so grateful for it. Still, it's been three years, and she's been able to leave the island for two (ever since that first reunion), and she decides she should repay the favor.

And since she's good at observing, she thinks she should help _other_ people observe. Maybe everyone at the party, even if it's only to notice one simple thing, which she thinks most people already do, but she has to make sure of it. So she sets her trap and stands behind a brown haired boy she can tell is skeptic, who definitely has a reputation on his side, and waits until Ash and Misty end up in a jumbled heap on the floor, covered in cake and icing and laughing much harder than they needed too, but hoping to distract from their blushes.

"They're so in love it's _sickening_," she says, sure to emphasize the last part, because it's that tone of disgust that let's this boy know that this is one embarrassing fact, and one that's truly worthy of spreading around as gossip.

He blinks, then he smirks, and the incredibly reputable Gary Oak says, "You know, they _are_, aren't they?"

**(PAGEBREAK)**

Oh, Melody, you've got your own oneshot, aren't you thrilled? You're the main character and not crushing on Misty this time around. Of course, you do set up both Ash and Misty for years of humiliation by their family and friends, but if there's any luck we can have May read it and maybe she'll forgive me a little bit for all the times I've done terrible things to her. And will do to her. Because, really, let's face it, there is nothing more fun than torturing that poor girl.


	27. Choosing Dare

I skipped a week. I deserve death. Do with me as you wish.

**Truth or dare, from Tomoyo Kinomoto.**

* * *

**Choosing Dare**

"Hey Misty," he asks, eyes glinting. "Truth of dare?"

She blinked and thinks and decides she knows him and that glint in his eye. She knows that he's got a dare that has fun written all over it. She doesn't know if it's going to be embarrassing, because that's always a toss up. It could be scary, it could be funny, it could be her in a hula skirt singing a song that would make a sailor blush, but it's going to make him smile or laugh, and since she likes those things more than she cares to admits she decides that it's probably worth it.

"Dare," she says, and waits.

"Spell ten words that start with A," he challenges, and she stares.

"But that's easy!" she says in dismay, because that isn't fun at all, and there has to be some kind of twist to put that gleam in his eye.

"Then do it."

She rolls her eyes and says, "Apple," and suddenly he's barely a centimeter from her face, and the room is filled with their friends and he doesn't seem to care. She whispers, "A-P-" and on the P their lips blush and she rushes, feeling flustered and wondering why he would do such a thing, "L-E."

He leans back a bit before smirking. "A-P-L-E?"

"A-P-P-L-E," she corrects quickly, able to get it out before he can come close.

"Nine more," he taunts, and leans back in.

"Ant," she says after thinking. "A-N-T."

"That was hard," he snorts.

"Ask. A-S-K. A-M-P." She flushes as their lips brush on another P.

"If you don't do a big one, I'll make it harder."

She glares defiantly. "A-D-D," she says, not imagining how it could possibly be harder.

Then he kisses her. She gasps, but he doesn't seem to care. A hand cups her cheek and another goes around her waist and she doesn't wonder why but lets her eyes flutter closed as if it was perfectly normal for him to do so. And then, ever so slightly, he pulls away and whispers, "Five more."

"Amazing," she mumbles, feeling dizzy."

"How do you spell that?"

"A-M-A-Z-I-N-G," she says, and their lips brush on every letter.

"Four more."

She lets the good feelings roll away, because suddenly it's about the game again and not at all about the fact that Ash Ketchum has just kissed her, of all the strange things he could have done. "A-L-L."

"I told you I'd make it harder," he scolds, and kisses her again, kisses her stupid so that her eyes roll back and she melts right into him, right up until he pulls back and taunts, "Three."

"Don't know," she says, thoroughly sick of spelling and much more into making the game harder.

"You can't name and spell three more A words?"

She glares. "Ass. A-S-S."

He snorts, and was about to try and kiss her, when she realizes that there are still people watching and she has a dare to win and rushes, "A-N-D," before his lips close over hers again and she's so caught up she can't help but gasp, "Ash" against him as her hands slide up his chest.

"Spell it."

"A-S-H." Her fingers curl into his shirt. "It's not very long."

"I'll have to make it harder."

Then she feels a jolt to her shoulder and she wakes up with a start, blurting "Truth" though her mind hadn't caught up with her mouth's response quite yet, before she blinks at Ash and repeats, "I chose truth."

"You fell asleep?" He giggles so hard he can barely speak. "It's only ten!"

"Oh, shut up. I chose truth."

"Alright," he says, and thinks hard. "What'd you dream about?"

He can't get a good secret out of her for the life of him, not because he doesn't know the questions to ask. No, he knows perfectly well that he could make her blush with the right words. All it would take was something just a tad to personal, a tad too exposing, and she would drop the game and dash out of the room blushing with a embarrassing secret revealed. Ash just doesn't know what line to cross. He's never known what line to cross.

She smirks, and thinks about lying for the hell of it, and then decides to tell the truth, the truth the way she wants it. So she leans back into the sofa, looks at the group of giggling kids and says, "Choosing dare."

* * *

By the way, it's also all a dream from Tomoyo Kinomoto as well. I thought I'd save my possibly obvious twist.


	28. Twelve Twenty Three

_To the three billion of you who suggested time travel…voila! The scientist in me cries at it, but, voila!_

**LuckyTigger** suggested Dawn getting lost and Paul takes care of her.

**Papoteer's** eavesdropper, who, by eavesdropping, makes a significant impact on the story.

* * *

**Twelve Twenty Three**

Fairy tales were made up of little girls like her. Well, girls like her. At sixteen, she supposed she wasn't exactly a little girl anymore, which probably made this all the more demeaning. For the love of everything good – her red hair was a mess, she was covered in mud, her yellow tee shirt and blue jean shorts were plastered to her with sweat and river water and all for the very, very slim chance that there was still a squirtle somewhere in the area, but still she searched like a British narrator was about to mark the end of her journey and a squirtle would leap out and grant her three wishes.

Which is ridiculous for two reasons. The first being that I can't do a British accent, the second being that her journey hadn't actually begun yet. Well, it had and it hadn't. It being had not yes. Tenses, golly, doesn't time travel make things wacky? Either way, Misty had felt like she was swept up in someone's strange, modern rewrite of some classic fairy tale, and was mostly crossing her fingers that it wouldn't be one of the horribly gruesome ones that ended up with her diving off a cliff into an ocean and turning into bubbles.

It was twelve twenty three. Misty knew this not because her of her watch. Her technology was the same and, not being based on anything external, it continued to tick away at it's entirely incorrect time. Thankfully, Misty could talk, and was able to casually stroll up to a man and ask the time. He told her, and she silently admires that he made absolutely no comment towards her state of dress. So knowing the time wasn't the problem. Knowing where she had been at twelve twenty three (aside from the spot she was in now, obviously) was where the real problem hid. Well, that, and thinking about whether or not conservation of mass was being broken or not was making her head spin a bit harder than she liked.

So, she shook away the terribly confusing thoughts and strode off in the direction of Ash's house, assuming that she was somewhere around there, and ended up standing behind a tree, staring at her past self and wondering whether or not time looped and thinking that, if she threw a rock at her past self's head, she could answer a million questions concerning time travel. She didn't, mostly because that meant throwing a rock at her own head and not because of any fear over ruining timespace or anything like that.

"Is that a squirtle?" Dawn asked, and the time traveling redhead glanced her way. "I think that's a wild squirtle!"

And, despite the fact that she knew perfectly well how the past few hours had been her personal hell due to her quest to catch the blue turtle, Misty was suddenly gripped with the desire to go after the rare wild thing. She was then struck with the urge to slap herself in the face for her stupidity. So, she waited for Dawn and Ash and Brock and her past self to all run after the pokémon. She followed them, priding herself on not being seen, until they began to break apart. Then she began to hunt her prey.

Misty, surprisingly, did not go after her past self. This was mostly because she knew exactly what was going to happen and did not want to either experience it again or watch herself experience it for the first time. Instead, she smirked to herself and trailed after Ash, thinking of the wonderful pranks she could pull with him so focused and her in two places at once. This worked just fine until Ash began to sing an incredibly sexual song, and she burst out laughing at the absurdity of it. That made him take notice, and she decided to simply go with the moment and see how much she could get the dark haired dolt to believe now that she was a timer traveling.

"Couldn't find the squirtle?" he taunted, smirking cockily. "You had to follow me to have any chance of catching it, didn't ya?"

"No," she said, much more seriously thank she believed she could manage which was so serious it sounded like she was about to tell him his mother had died. "Ash, I came back from the future, just a week into the future. And everything Ash…oh, Mew. It's just…it just…it all went so wrong. It started small, Ash, but it spread so, so quickly."

His eyes widened. "What was it? A disease? Can I stop it?"

"I don't know if there's any way you can help, Ash." She swallowed thickly, and thought about cute dead things to make her eyes prick with tears. "It…it happened so fast. I don't know if…if any warning is going to make a difference. But I have to at least try, Ash."

"Tell me what happened!" he said, grabbing her shoulders. "There has to be something I can do. You wouldn't come back just to tell me its all hopeless, would you? There has to be something I can do, isn't there?"

She pretended to be choked up with tears, though she was really running through a long series of disaster and apocalypse movies to try and figure out which would be the best for her ever more elaborate prank. She was wrapped in a comforting hug from Ash, and although that wasn't her intent, it was pleasant, so she hugged him back and pretended to be struggling to get her tears under control while he stroked her back.

"I'm sorry for that," she said, wiping at imaginary tears, and hoping Ash wasn't paying enough attention to noticed that his shirt wasn't wet.

"It's okay. Just tell me what-"

"It's the caterpies, Ash," she said fervently, taking his hands up in hers. "No one saw it coming. How could we? They're just caterpies but…oh, If you knew how stupid saying that sounds…_just _caterpies. They have this crazy amount of power and they…they just rose up. They conquered everything. They made these giant building out of string shot and we can't get in. Some of us are planning on attacking with fire and flying and…I just don't think it'll work. I'll try. Oh, Celebi, how I'll try, but I'm not sure if it's going to change anything."

"What can I do?" he asked, sounding desperate.

But Misty could only hold on for so long, and started laughing once again, crying, "I can't believe you fell for it! Oh my freaking Mew! I told you that caterpies took over the world and you didn't even blink!"

He blushed. "That's not funny."

"No, it's _hilarious_."

He crossed his arms, pouting childishly. "So, what'd you follow me for then?"

She wiped tears of mirth from her eyes. "Well, it's only three hours." She crossed her arms as well. "What do you think I should do?"

"Not mess with me!" he protested wildly.

She stuck her tongue out. "Ash Ketchum, I traveled back in time three hours. I could do lots of things to fill that time, mess with plenty of different people, but, out of everyone, I chose you to mess with. You should be flattered!"

"Well, why me?" he snapped.

"Because Dawn told me to!"

The twelve year old in question was, at that very moment, hiding behind her own tree and evesdropping on the conversation. The two of them were interesting, and she couldn't help but stop and listen when she heard Misty mention time travel. That was far too good of an adventure to give up. So, she crawled over to hear the story, and, once she heard her name, immediately turned on her heel to race off and find the _real _Misty. No, the _past _Misty. Wait, no…the _present _Misty? Golly, time travel did make grammar complicated. Either way, she ran until she smacked into the redhead, which was the next step in the wild adventure.

Misty had been searching for the squirtle by the river, and when Dawn barreled into her, it ended up with both girls shrieking and tumbling into the water. Dawn came up with a cry of, "My hair!" while Misty shouted, "It's cold!" along with a few choice swear words. Then the two waded their way onto the shore and kicked off shoes and socks and wrung out the water from every bit of clothing they could squeeze. During the process, Dawn found it to be a food time to explain that she had just seen future Misty talking to Ash.

Misty listened, then, rather idly asked. "How far in the future?"

"A few hours, I think," Dawn answered. "Apparently, the only reason you came back was to mess with him. You told him asking about the world ending and then you started laughing when he believed you. You startled a Celebi, or something. That's how you wound up here."

"Meeting a Celebi would be cool."

"Time travel is weird though."

"The tenses?" Misty sympathized, nodding.

"Well, most the whole thing about how you actually time traveled. I mean, pretty big deal, don't you think?"

She shrugged. "It wouldn't be the first time. I've never had a squirtle, though. After all the noise its definitely gone. Where do you think it went? North? Because I'm thinking he'd follow the current south, don't you?"

"You time traveled," Dawn asked, gawking.

"I don't know." Misty shrugged. "You're the one who saw me."

"No! Before! You said that you time traveled before?" Dawn pressed. "Like, not the you I just saw. _You_ you."

"Oh." Misty paused in her hair wringing, then said, "See, if we had the tenses for this stuff this wouldn't be a problem."

"Forget about tenses!" Dawn snapped. "When did you time travel?"

"Um, about three years ago with Ash and Brock. We were in the Viridian Forest and we were pulled back fifty years. We ate berries, saw a Suicune, saved Celebi and came back." She shrugged. 'The part where we time traveled is pretty insignificant now that I think about it. I wonder if that squirtle did follow the river."

"You looked pretty messed up."

Misty smirked. "Is it because you tackled me into a river?"

They laughed and Dawn asked, "So, what are you going to do about it? I mean, are you going to talk to your future self?"  
"Nah. I think I'll just keep looking for the squirtle. Things usually all work out in the end of all these time travel stories, right?"

"I guess so." She sighed. "Do you think anyone else has seen the squirtle?"

Somene had. Someone named Paul. He had come to Pallet for a convenient reason. It really doesn't matter what reason. All the does matter is that it's a good reason and it ends with Paul in Pallet, hunting a squirtle just like the rest of our heroes. He, being a pokémon trainer of the highest caliber, had immediately leapt up and ran after it like any self-respecting pokémon lover would. Straight into the wilds of Pallet he ran, down the river, after the surprisingly speedy turtle. He didn't mind a long chase, or a hard chase. It meant a strong pokémon at the end.

Unfortunately, Paul had never been to Pallet. He was unaware of the rather technologically barren land, unaware of how thick the forests were. About five minutes into his journey, he discovered that he had absolutely no idea where he was. He whipped out his pokegear to check and was horrified to discover that, without a tower anywhere near, there was no way to get a signal through the tree. So, with a slight twitch in his unmovable indifference, he continued after the squirtle, feet pounding along the river, eyes sharply looking for any tracks that might tip him off.

So focused was he that he didn't notice the weakness of the rocks his stood on, and was shocked when they crumbled beneath him. He gave a rather not stoic yelp and tumbled down several feet into a hole, covered in mud and scowling. But he was Paul, and this wasn't a problem. He went to climb the side…and the mud slid under his fingertips as he tried to escape. He went to grab his pokeballs, and found that he had, ever so conveniently, dropped his backpack as he fell, leaving his pokémon topside while he was left to sulk in his hole. But even that, not even that was too bad. He would get out sooner or later.

It was just that it had to be sooner, and it had to be at the hands of a positively beaming blue haired girl. Her face popped over the mouth of his hole, took him in for a moment, then rolled back, laughing good and hard at his predicament, calling Misty over, so she could laugh at him as well. However, when Misty came over to laugh, the weight proved too much and the three of them ended up in a hole together, covered in mud and extremely unhappy.

"My hair will never be the same," Dawn said pitifully, holding a handful of it up to her face. "This is your fault, Paul. If you hadn't gotten lost-"

"Who said I was _lost_?" he snapped. "I knew exactly where I was! I was chasing a squirtle!"

Misty rolled her eyes, bouncing through her bag for some pokémon to help. She muttered, "Welcome to the club," then snatched out a pokeball, releasing Gyarados to pull them out, on by one, out of the hole and back to stable ground. She rubbed his neck, telling him that he had done a good job before returning him, and did her very best to ignore the bickering duo behind her, noting that Dawn was soundly getting her ass handed to her.

"You were completely lost! Why else would you be out here?"

"Following a squirtle, an especially rare pokémon I'd like to add to my collection," he countered easily, strolling off.

She followed him, arms crossed. "Oh really? If you're not lost, where's Ash's house, you…you…you Gretel?"

"First, how the hell should I know where _Ash lives_? Second, who the hell is Gretel?"

"The lost boy from that fairy tale who gets eaten by a witch."

"That's _Hansel_, you twit."

And, now alone on the river bank, Misty looked down at her clothes in a rather depressed fashion and sighed. She had the outfit of Cinderella, and the evil stepsisters to go with it. She chased a rare creature only to have it get away and end in her misfortune. She'd called upon her pokémon friends to get her out of a troubling situation, and, if Dawn's story was to be believed, made another magical creature mad at her to the point where she had been transported back in time.

Which, to her surprise once again, came crawling out of the forest, drank from the river, then floated right up to Misty. The girl grinned, giggled to herself, and let the curious pokémon circle around her. "Oh, aren't you sweet? How could I ever startle you?"

"Bi?" It inquired, blinking up at her.

"Oh yeah, I'm so scary. What could I ever do?" She laughed, shaking her head. She waved her hands. "Boo!"

And she found herself on a dirt road, completely and totally lost, and walked up to the nearest house, knocking on the door until a man came out, who didn't say a single word about her messy clothes, despite how strange it must have been. She asked if she was in Pallet, and he said that she was. Then, after a second more of thinking, she sighed and asked, "And, I know this is stupid, but could you tell me the date and time?"

He did so, and she discovered it was the exact same day, twelve twenty three.

Fairy tales were made up of little girls like her…

* * *

_A circle is round, and has no end…that's how long I want to be your friend. _And how long this story goes on for! Hooray! I made a time loop. See, if Dawn hadn't eavesdropped she never would have ran into Misty and Misty never would have joked about startling Celebi and the whole thing never would have happened! Ha, oh, I'm so very clever.

Oh, hush with your criticisms! It's not new but is there really any possible way to make time travel new? I mean, it's a scientific paradox! We only know how to go forward. We can only observe the past, not physically go to it, and there are so many scientific laws broken! It's very hard!

I do jest, of course. Criticize away!


	29. Royal Couple

Well, I wanted to do a different one, but people kept saying royal wedding and I kept thinking of arranged marriage so…here it is!

** Arranged marriage suggested by crystal . gurl  
**

* * *

**Royal Couple**

Dawn Betlitz is rich and gorgeous and noble. She is ever so proper and polite as she curtsies and allow others to kiss her hand. But Dawn Berlitz only has one thought, and that is for the sullen prince who worries over his mother's bedside. The sullen prince who, two years prior, was found crying over his brother's body – a knife in his back from "bandits" – who has painted on smiles. Those deep purple eyes tear, but they never flicker. In response, her mind is always full of him and her eyes rarely leave his form.

His hands are like ice as they take her hand, sit on her waist, and they dance. They don't talk. There are words, yes, but they don't mean them, they don't pay attention to them. They don't think about any of the things they say. Prince Paul's sudden interest in his betrothed is thought to be from his father's insistence to "get to know your future bride". Dawn, beautiful Dswn, does her duty as a woman engaged to the future king, and reciprocates his affections.

His lips are like store as they press against hers by the water fountain, a place they are sure to be caught, and she pulled away, putting her lips to his ear and whispers, low and soft, "How will you do me in, your highness?"

"I haven't the slightest," he says, and he is not referring to what her questions means, but truthfully answers, his hands twitching for only a moment on her hips."

"I'm incredibly partial to an arrow through the heart," she whispers. "And, o' prince, I am ever so partial to falling off my rapidash as I race through the countryside."

"Woman shouldn't ride," he retorts softly.

"But king's should. Your father does. It'd be ever so sad if his mount spooked near the cliffs, dear." She nips his ear softly, and pulled away. "Such a thing should never happen. I know I would cry if it did. I imagine you would too, sob like a baby at the funeral where everyone can see."

He kisses her again, and it's warm, and she smiled. She is quite aware she had earned her keep. His every touch is still rough and he still feels like stone, and when they fall in the marriage bed he slams so hard she aches for days afterwards, but she is queen now after so, so many tragic accidents, and she knows that she has earned her keep.  
When they share a bed, she lies back and thinks of Sinnoh.

* * *

Remember, Victorian ladies, when sleeping with a man lie back and think of England, and it'll be over soon enough. XD  
I think this may be the shortest chapter yet, but I like it. Nice and to the point, I should think. It's not romantic, it's an epic power play, just like the royals used to be. Now they get married for love and all that silly stuff. How I miss the politics of monarchs.


	30. Protector

*sigh* I'll get that other one to work sooner or later.

**The divine origins or Ash. D I N O B O T**

* * *

**Protector**

Misty remembered the moment she met him perfectly. Her heart stopped, not metaphorically, but paused in her chest. Her breathing halted, her thoughts stopped, and then it hummed back into life perfectly in sync with his, breathing in and out with him, her heart thrumming along his. Slow, strong, inhuman beats that pumped blood through her, her vision sharpened, the noise seemed to buzz louder, and the smells and taste made her head whirl. She could smell how long a thing was from expiring, and taste every ingredient in her food. A sweet roll filled with cheese and meat suddenly exploded with flavor, and she couldn't help but moan at the sudden ecstasy of it.

"Good huh?" Violet giggled. She grabbed another roll from the center and passed it to the six year old, as she was the elected babysitter for the night while the other two rushed off to dance. "The palace always has good stuff, especially at celebrations."

"Who's he?" she asked, pointing at the boy playing in the courtyard, though it was hard to tell with all the other children swarming around.

She clucked her tongue and gave her ear a sharp twist, not minding the little girl yelping at the pain. "Don't you know your prince?"

"Not him." She shook her head furiously, rubbing the sore spot. "I know the prince. I meant the tan one with black hair."

Violet blinked. "Him? Can't you feel it?"

"Feel it?"

"Feel the power of him." She frowned, seeing that the youngest sister still looked confused. "That's the Chosen One, Misty. He's who we're having the celebration for. It's his birthday today, and they found him just last week. We talked about this, remember? Daisy told you before she went dancing."

"He shouldn't be playing alone. He'll get hurt," she said. Misty barely managed to rip her eyes away, swallowing thickly at the sudden drop her stomach took. "Isn't anyone going to watch him?"

"His mother does. And, one day, some strong young man will be called upon to be his protector, to taste his food and accompany him on his journeys." She smiled, leaning on one hand and tweaking the redhead's nose with a giggle. "So curious. Isn't six a bit young to be smitten?"

The girl barely reacted to the teasing, instead looking back at the playing children. "Not smitten."

"Then what are you?"

She didn't answer. Instead, she jumped from the table and ran into the courtyard, kicking off her shoes to pick up speed and hiking up her skirts. Then, with a surprisingly cushioning blow, she slammed into the boy she had seen from across the room and pinning him to the grass. The festivities stopped suddenly, whispers rushing through the crowd about whether or not the boy had been hurt and what could the Cerulean girl possibly be doing. She paid no mind to everyone looking as she rested her forehead on his, and he looked rather calm about it all, smiling up at her.

"Hello," he said.

"I'm Misty."

"I'm Ash."

She swallowed nervously, then smiled back. "When I saw you I turned wild. I can hear like a bat and I can run like a rapidash and I can see as well as the king's hawks, I bet. And I can't look at anything but you. I feel like you'll die if I look away."

"Then don't look away," he said casually. "I don't want you to go."

"Ash," his mother scolded. "Don't rope that poor girl into your travels. She's got a little crush on you is all. You know how girls get with you."

"It's not a crush," he said softly, not bothering a glance his mother's way.

Misty blushed, whispering, "What's a crush?"

"Common speak for smitten."

"I'm not smitten!" she gasped, rocking back and letting him sit up. He did, keeping them no more than a few inches apart. "You seem like you'd trip off a cliff if given half a chance. You couldn't tell who wanted to poison you if they poured it in front of your face, you trusting fool. I bet you can't even bandage a wound!"

"And you'll protect me from all that?"

"Until I die," she promised. It was strange how easily the words came, and they kept coming, somehow vowing her to something she barely understood. "With weapons of barehanded, with herbs and bandages I swear to keep you alive as best I can until I breathe my very last. You can't very well do it on your own."

He laughed. "They said my protector would be a man."

"I'm not man, but I can certainly do the job of one," she huffed, crossing her arms.

Misty was yanked up roughly and she yelped, raking her nails against the flesh that held her, until he released his grip, bleeding. She did not run or look for her family, but picked up a rock and screamed, standing in front of Ash, every muscles rigid and nostrils flaring, eyeing the man who had grabbed at her and nervous he would strike again. Whispers swept through the yard, and the guard stared at his hand, deep, thick chunks of skin ripped from his arm akin to a pokémon attack rather than a child's tantrum.

"She is the protector," Sabrina said, looking up at the king. "It is best to start her training now, while her mind is still so fresh. A blank slate is easiest to write on."

"She is a girl."

She smirked. "As am I. Is that a problem?"

"A seer may be a girl," he said sharply. "A protector cannot."

"The Legendaries say different. Arceus has brought us something new for this boy. A girl to protect a boy using cunning and stealth and lies rather than strength and torture." She smiled up at her king dreamily. "The boy's path needs a woman's touch."

"And how will she control her jealousy?"

"Jealous, sir?" she inquired lightly.

He insisted, "When the boy moves onto other girls? Surely she'll go mad with jealousy."

She laughed. "Oh, sir, do you really think women to be so petty? Such things will never be a problem."

"Despite her femininity?" he pressed.

"Because of it, I expect." She watched the girl, now calm, turn to Ash, and saw him clean the blood from her hands. "Quite because of it."

* * *

Don't ask me what Ash does. I suspect he becomes a politician as he needs someone to lie for him. Ha! Get it? 'Cuz...like, politicians lie sometimes and...and...I suck at political jokes. Please look away and I'll hide my face in shame.

Also, no. Ash doesn't GET superpowers. You know what his superpower is? Being ASH KETCHUM. That's it. He gets NOTHING. Ash Ketchum is perfectly awesome without superpowers, he doesn't need them. He is wonderful and perfect and you will bow to him.


	31. Title

**Idea of Ash's Triumphant Return from the always fantastic FTEcho 4**.

It's not quite what you had in mind for twisting the cliche, so I hope you don't mind.

* * *

She was outside.

His party was inside, and he'd been spending the night stuffing his face with Cheetos and fruit punch, all the while dodging his friends and family that wanted to tell him the same congratulations speech he had heard a hundred times before and would hear a hundred times again before the night had ended. Then he would nod absently and say something along the lines of, "Thanks. I worked really hard for it. I'm so happy you could make it" before rushing off. After that, he would usually find his gaze drifting out the window to the girl on his porch, wondering when she was going to come inside and congratulate him like everyone else had done. Well, that or yell at him for a few bad reasons he doubted he would ever understand.

"You didn't make up with her, did you?" Brock asked, sipping at something that was most certainly not fruit punch. "Did you think that if you invited her she'd run over and hug you and forget all the problems you've had?"

"I didn't think it would," he said quietly. "I kind of hoped it would, but I knew it wouldn't happen."

"Are you even going to try to talk to her?"

"She's not talking to me."

"That's not what I asked. I know she's not talking to you. What I asked whether or not you've even tried to talk to her lately."

"Why should I? She doesn't want to talk to me, why should I try to talk to her." He glared and grabbed a handful of minihotdogs, avoiding Brock's accusing gaze. "Besides, even if I did she'd probably just hit me and run away."

"So you're not even going to try?"

"There's no point."

"So bravery isn't a requisite for the Master title?"

His jaw clenched. "Brock."

"I'm just saying, you seem pretty cowardly. The great and powerful Pokémon Master is too scared to talk to his childhood friend."

"I'm not scared."

"Then why won't you-"

He looked back at the older boy, snorting at him. "Fine. If you want me to that badly, I will. I'll go and talk to her and she'll hit me and nothing will happen, just like I knew it would. How does that sound?"

"Sounds like I should come back at another time," Duplica said awkwardly, causing Ash to spin around with a bright blush. She stuck her hand out, smiling a little as he took it. "Congrats on a job well done, Ash."

"Uh, thanks." He rubbed the back of his head. "I mean, I-"

"It's probably best if I leave you alone."

He blurted, "I wasn't snapping at you."

"I know."

"I've just been-"

"It's fine." She laughed and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Have fun talking to Misty."

"Thanks for coming," he said in a rush. "I'm really glad you're here."

"Glad to be here."

Then she melted into the crowd and Brock had walked off and Ash stiffed his shoulders and marched outside, standing awkwardly next to the redhead and wondering how, exactly, he was supposed to start the conversation. After all, saying "Sorry I abandoned you and ignored you for my dreams" seemed a little insensitive, and he wasn't even entirely sure if that was why she was mad. The last thing he needed was to give him another reason. Maybe if he was quie for long enough, she would talk to him first.

"Sorry," he said, then crused himself for breaking first.

She crossed her arms and leaned against his house, eyes narrowing. "For what?"

"Huh?"

"What are you sorry for?"

He stared for a moment, then muttered, "You know."

"I don't know."

"It's what you're mad about."

"And what am I mad about?"

"You know."

"Yes, I know." She smirked, eyes looking hard. "You don't."

"I do too," he mumbled quietly.

"Then what is it?"

"I don't know!"

"Then what the hell are you sorry for?" she shouted, pushing off the wall and marching up to him.

"I'm sorry you're mad!" he cried. "I don't want you to be! I don't know what I did! I don't know when I did it. All I know is that I hate not talking and I hate how upset you are and I hate not knowing how to make it better!"

She took a shaky breath. "What are the requirements of being a Master?"

"Defeating all of Kanto's gyms."

"And?"

"Defeating Kanto's Elite."

"And?"

"And catching all of the pokémon native to the region."

"And how many do you have?"

"One hundred and forty."

"And how many are there in the region?"

"One hundred and forty!"

"Liar!" She shouted, spinning on her heel. It suddenly fell silent inside, several daring to look at the arguing duo. "One hundred and forty? That's how many you've seen in Kanto? You're a liar! How many have you seen?"

"One hundred and forty."

"Liar!" she screamed it now, her voice scratching from the effort.

"And what do you care? It's a title."

"It's more than a title!"

"No, it's not!"

"It's your dream!" she shrieked, then groaned, putting her head in her hands. "It was your dream to be a real master."

"I am a real master!"

"Yes! You are!" she shouted, and his throat tightened when he saw a tear fall. "That's what you've been for years. You aren't a Master because you won a few battles, because you went on a shopping spree for pokeballs and filled them all up! When a kid thinks of being a Master, when you thought of being a Master, it means something more than they put on paper."

"So, if you know me so well, what's a Master? What did I want to be?"

"A hero. A legend." She swallowed. "You wanted to save the world and the people and the pokémon in it. You wanted to make a difference, not just be a collector with a talent for popular sport."

"So why are you mad at me?"

"Because you're better than whoever makes these stupid standards." She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyelids and wiped away the tears. "It's not what you do that matters, not what they call you, and that's what you used to think. Suddenly, you seem to care what everyone else thinks, and unless someone with a big name waves a piece of paper in front of your face, you're not special. You're boring if they're not calling you Master Ketchum."

"And what should they call me?" He laughed bitterly. "Tell me, Misty. What matches what I do if Master doesn't cover it?"

"Ash Ketchum," she said slowly.

"What?"

"That's your answer, you dunce." She smiled softly. "Ash Ketchum."

* * *

...I really, really like Ash. Is that obvious yet? Maybe not. Maybe I should turn it up a little.

School's almost done and I'm going to Pueblo for college! Gees, I'm excited.


	32. For the Team

Body swap from the lovely cristipotter and something from the villain point of view from the ravishing polywhirl42.

Because I feel like adjectives today.

* * *

Giovanni hasn't seen a man cry this hard in quite some time, and he doesn't blame the blubbering idiot. Were the positions switched, he was sure he'd cry quite a bit too. As it is, he leans back in his chair and takes out a bad of black tea, snapping his fingers for a tea pot. He's a bit excited, so his fingers tremble as he pours the cup to steady his nerves. He drinks it plain, because he believes good tea doesn't need any sugar or milk or cream. Once he's downed his first cup, he pours another and looks around him, checking on whether or not experiment was prepared.

The chair that the sobbing man is tied to is nothing special. It's steel. It has nice restraints. It's bolted to the floor. It's nothing too revolutionary, but the small black dot on the man's head, _that _stirs up trouble. He thrashes in his chair and tries to see the spot, like the intensity of his stare would melt it off. It stays, however, and he screams louder as they drag a ratata into the ring, grunting and squealing as another dot is fastened to its head. The man's eyes roll with fear and he turns to begging.

"He didn't say anything for the team, didn't he?"

"We have him on tape, sir."

"Then it must be nerves, hmm? Let's turn on the machine and see if he calms down once the process starts."

"Very good, sir."

Mechanical noises boom in the test room. Things click and hum into life, and the man jumps, forgetting to bed and turning to shrieks again. The ratata moves its legs awkwardly, wondering what the strange feeling is in its limbs. When a scientist slices down its back with a blade, the rat pays no notice, ears twitching as the man screams from the pain, arching our of the chair as far as it would allow. Again and again, the blade went into the mouse's flesh and only the man showed signs of fear, until the ratata dropped down dead and the man lay weeping in the chair.

"It works, then?" Giovanni asks, his voice filtering through the speaker. "Full intensity, nothing dulled in the transfer?"

"One hundred percent, sir!" a scientist says proudly.

He thinks about this for a moment, then leans forward. "How many times can you run it again?"

"Thousands, sir."

"You have the power?"

"Plenty, sir."

"Nine more times, then. Make it an even ten." The man screams, and Giovanni smirks. "Maybe one hundred, if he'll do anything for the team."

* * *

I like it, in all its twisted ways, however short it may be.

Ah, well, wish me luck that my house doesn't get hit with a tornado, as we're on tornado watch, and my heart goes out to any of you who have been affected by the recent tornadoes sweeping through the US. I hope you're okay, and that rebuilding will be as quick as possible.


	33. Candy

Fictionlover94 DaisyxTracy

**Seven minutes in heaven – tomoyo kinomoto**

* * *

**Candy  
**

It is unbelievable how drunk she is, but still manages to taste like candy.

Daisy has a sweet tooth unlike any other he's ever met. She has a slim waist despite it all, because she's overly concerned with her appearance and works out almost constantly, but it's rare when he doesn't see her rolling a jawbreaker around her mouth and hearing the soft, muted click of solid sugar on her teeth. It's rare when he sees her with any other color than cherry or raspberry, so the deep red stains her lips and tongue, though, sometimes, when she grins, he laughs because she managed to stain her teeth.

"Why'd you stop?" she murmurs, dropping her face into his neck, nuzzling. "Just when it was so good. _So _good."

Tracey pushes her back, rubbing her shoulders gently. "Listen, Daisy, you're very drunk right now, and I don't want you to do something you'll regret. It's so late it's early, we're playing a game that's meant for seventh graders, and my biggest concern right now is that someone's going to forget we're in here and we'll be stuck in this closet for way, way longer than seven minutes. Let's just wait until they come to get us, alright?"

"I _want _to be stuck in here for longer than seven minutes. It takes longer than that for me to fu-"

"I know where you're going with that, and no. We're _not _doing that."

She throws herself at him, and this time he can barely stay standing. Her hands are everywhere and so, so, so skilled. His pants aren't even off and he's already panting like he's naked. It's not just those hands, though, it's not the practice but _her_. It's the way her hair fans out around her face, the way she smiles, how she whispers that he has an artist's hands and laughs every time, like it's the first time either of them have heard the joke.

By the time she fumbles with his belt, he's managed to recover enough that he grabs her hands and slams her against the closet door, making her giggle again, getting to her tiptoes to rubs her nose against his before those bright, blue green eyes stare up at him, murky from the liquor. He kisses her forehead softly, loosening his grip and murmuring, "I love you, Days. You know that. Let's not do it like this, alright?"

"Let's do it now," she says fervently. "Tracey, I love you. I _love _you so, so much! We should do it right now. Just lay me down in this stupid closet and you should-"

"It's our first time."

Her eyes widen and she gasps, "It's not my first time. I've done it lots and lots and lo-"

"It's our first time with each other," he corrects softly. "Don't you want it to be more than in a closet, when your friends could come barging in at any moment and pour vodka on us?"

She shakes her head furiously and break from his grip, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. He can smell her breath floating up to him, and he smiles because even _that _smells like candy. The girl who's twenty four and seems twelve, picking cotton candy up from fair grounds and giggling when someone calls him her boyfriend and commenting on everything she sees with wide eyed wonder, and she hugs him so hard and presses to him so tight that he remembers that, no matter her actions, she is a woman.

"Will you love me?" she asks.

"What?"

"If we wait." She pulls away suddenly, blonde hair sticking to her face because of the sticky sweet drinks she's been guzzling all night. "I don't wait, because then guys won't love me. So, if I really like them, and I want them to really like me, we have sex. They don't say I have to, but I do. Tracey, I _know _I do."

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to," he soothed.

"But I want to, because it's worth it!" She tugs her hair, tangling her fingers in the thick mane. "I don't mind. Sometimes I don't _want _to bang 'em. Sometimes I just want to talk, or go to dinner, or whatever it is that couples do. You know, sometimes I just want to be a normal couple, but I can't. They don't say it, but I know they'll leave if I don't. So it's worth it, because I don't mind and it makes them happy and it makes them _stay_."

"I'm not going anywhere," he promises. "Daisy, it's been months. Do you really think I'll run off after waiting this long?"

She stares, trembling. "I'm sexy?"

"Plenty."

"You love me?"

"I've said that."

"Say it."

He laughs. "Daisy Yawa, I'm madly in love with yo-"

He can't finish, because she attacks him again. Her lips are pressed hard to his and she's shaking, but she's there. Despite the alcohol making her wobble and the distinct slur in her voice when she talks, she is there. All of her is against his lips, when she pulls away, all of her is whispering "I love you" again and again, dampening his shirt with her tears, right up until the door opens and the other sisters stare, baffled as to why the oldest is crying.

"Uh, it's, like…" Violet begins, then she rolls her eyes to the ceiling. "You know, I'm not going to try anymore. Whatever, honestly. Like, I don't even care at this point."

"What'd you do?" Lily says, then her eyes widen. "This isn't, like…shit, this isn't me, right?"

"Why would it be you?" Violet snaps.

"Because, like, I told Daisy something super private."

"Like what?"

"Like _sex _stuff."

"Why would she cry over that?" The girl crosses her arms. "Why wouldn't you tell _me_?"

Daisy takes a deep breath and stands back, looking at her sisters and her boyfriend, then quite loudly states, "My sister's a lesbo, and I want a gumdrop," and while Lily and Violet are stunned, Tracey doubles over laughing, because that's he's girlfriend. She's staggering, out of her mind drunk, and they've been locked in a closet for seven minutes, and they only thing that she can consistently keep on her mind is a piece of candy.

* * *

I liked this one. XD It came out really easy,and I only had to edit twice before I was satisfied!


	34. Aura

Sorry this took so long, but, as you can probably tell from your scrollbar, this was long. And, holy crap, did this thing ever want to turn itself into a fullblown story. The actions are skimpy, especially towards the end, but I like it as a teaser to something bigger (not that I think I'll ever actualy get around to it).

_The suggestion of Aura from GuardianSaiyoko_

_Damsel in distress from Papoteer_

* * *

**Aura**

"Why are you looking at me like I have two heads?" Misty asked wearily. She looked down at her body, noting that her clothes were neat and clean and that her fly was zipped and that she hadn't forgotten to shave anything. Then, satisfied that nothing was out of place and running her tongue over her teeth to clear anything that might have been stuck off, she crossed her arms and glared at Ash, because as much as she liked having any attention (and especially his) the look he was giving her was not one she wanted to see on a daily basis.

Ash, on the other hand, was having some fun with aura. He couldn't make an attack or make a barrier and his telepathy was typically limited to the occasional Lucario or Riolou who communicated more with feelings and images more than words anyway. He couldn't send a message in his mind and he wasn't sure that there were any time flowers around to send a message, which meant that his brilliant prank involving Gary and the line "Help me Obi Wan Kanobi, you're my only hope" would never come true, not only because of the pre-mentioned fault but because of several other limitations too numerous to list here. Hell, he wasn't even entirely sure if he could still do the transfer thing.

He could, however, see with his eyes closed. He would close his eyes and spread out his senses, and when the world came into Auravision, as he called it, he would open his eyes and match the senses up, which had shown him hiding pokémon and Team Rocket members, and even a ghost once. Since Misty was making lunch and that was boring, he'd clicked on his aura to see what she felt like, and what a sandwich felt like, because he wondered if things that had been alive still had some of their life energy in them.

_That_ had been the main goal, because he had seen plenty of other people, and more often than not they were boring and glowed just like he did, except where his leaked out all over everything, theirs stayed inside them. Sometimes they glowed brighter, sometimes they were dim, sometimes they were patchy, and he had started to learn what all those different things meant. He hadn't, however, paid attention to sandwiches.

He'd never seen someone burn like she did. She was a blazing white spot in the otherwise flat, dull world around her. It streamed out of her constantly, leaving her no less bright, and he didn't have a clue why. She wasn't using it. She wasn't magical. She was packed to the brim with the aura that rocked in and out of her, pulsating in a way that should have left her permanently bedridden from exhaustion, but it didn't bother her at all. Everything she touched glimmered for a second, leaving a trail of slowly fading light behind her. It made him so nervous he wanted to run up and take it all out of her, because he was afraid she would die if she continued.

"Ash?" she pressed, leaning down to snap her fingers in front of his face, scowling when he shut his eyes against the distraction to focus on the aura. "You're not sick, are you? Oh, crap, you're not sick, are you? Moltres, Ash, I have a class of kids to teach. You need to get to bed before the parents completely-"

"Do you know what aura is?" he asked, grabbing her hand. He noticed the spark where they touched, watched some of her energy shoot through his body, swirling around his left knee, the one he's scraped just a few days prior. It wasn't healing, that was for sure, but it now shone as bright as the rest of him, taking none of the dimness that sickness usually held. The, realizing she had spoken, blinked and looked at her, dropping the hand and immediately noticing the loss of warm, comforting energy. "Sorry, Mist. What were you saying?"

"I was saying, no, I _haven't_ heard of aura, and I was going to ask why you asked." She rubbed her hand, glowering at him from the corner of her eyes. "Now I'm just wondering why you grabbed my hand and you're back to looking at me like I grew a second head."

"Am I?" he said, barely paying attention. "Have you ever read somebody's mind?"

"What?"

"That was stupid, sorry," he continued. "Can you see stuff? Sense it. Sense life energy, I mean. That's basically what aura is. It's the energy in everything that's alive. Can you do anything weird? Make a barrier? Attack? Anything weird at all."

"I can think of a few weird things I put up with," she muttered, grabbing the sandwich plates. She set one down in front of him, and picked up her own, the thing glowing bright enough that he would have guessed it was a separate living thing if he hadn't known better. "Just shut up and eat your food, and we'll go back to pretending you aren't a freak."

"You're the freak," he shot back, the anger making him lose the grip on aura and returning to eyesight as his main sense. "You know, with how bright you are, I bet I can sense you all the way in Johto. I mean, a wailord has a smaller aura than you."

"What's aura?" she fumed, throwing her sandwich down. "What are you taking about?"

"I told you already! It's life energy!"

"Well, Ash Ketchum, I don't know how much aura I have. I bet I have the same amount as everyone else. Well, unless that means I get to live forever. I wouldn't mind living forever, or just a really long time." Seeming to decide that Ash was either messing with her, or that he was doing something stupid again, she settled She sucked some mayonnaise off her thumb and shrugged. "What did you even bring it up for?"

"Because I can see it, and you have lots of it."

Not understanding at all, Misty leaned her head in her hand and sighed. "Alright, so if you can see life energy and I have a lot of life energy, I look weird. That's why you stared at me like I had a second head. So with all that in mind, I have absolutely no idea what that's supposed to mean for me. Maybe I'm just a freak."

"It has to mean something."

"Could be a genetic quirk," she said easily, looking down at Ash's meal and thinking it _must _have been serious if he had stopped eating.

"Nothing glows like that."

"Maybe I'm pregnant."

"Not even then."

"With octuplets."

He shook his head. "Not even."

"So why don't you eat your stupid sandwich, enjoy your visit, and stop thinking about it, huh?"

Which he did, for a little while. At least, he stopped talking to her about it. Once night came around he would cast out his senses and feel her strange, pulsating aura and wonder where it came from and where it went, watching it spike with her emotions and dreams then settle as she calmed. The curiosity drove him crazy, and before his brain knew what his body was doing, he was on Misty's computer, accessing his email and sending a letter to someone who he hoped would understand, which seemed like a good idea at the time.

Though, to be fair, a lot of stupid things seem like a good idea at the time, so Ash couldn't really be blamed when, to his horror, Misty answered the door instead of him. He also couldn't be blamed for Misty's shocked staring because a Lucario had shown up at the door, with a young man stumbling along behind him. While Misty was the shocked at the human sized pokémon that seemed to be sizing her up, Ash was rather surprised at the young man who accompanied the pokémon.

The man smiled weakly and brushed back black, close cut hair, and said, "My grandfather wanted to come, but I didn't think it'd be safe for him to make the journey. So, uh, this is riolou, except, uh, he obviously evolved. You said you had some kind of weird, aura thing going on that you needed help with?"

The world stopped when Misty's glare found him, and Ash wondered if he was about to die. He wasn't, but the ensuing barrage of attacks of fists on every part of him she could reach, despite his constant attempts to block her, his pleas to make her stop almost drowning out her cries of, "I _told _you! I _told _you to let it go but you _had _to stare and you _had _to be creepy and you just _had _to invite a stranger into my home!"

"Uh, I can leave, if you need me t-"

She broke away from the boy in a flash, blowing her bangs out of her face and trying to look less intense as she looked at the man in her doorway. "I'm sorry for the misunderstanding, but my friend is an idiot. For your trouble, I will gladly pick up the tab for any hotel you need to stay in tonight, and I'll even pay for your plane ride back, and for every dollar I swear to _Moltres_!" She spun back to Ash, storming up to him. "I swear…I _swear _for every damn dollar I will punch you!"

"But there's something wrong!" he protested. He managed to grab one wrist, but, undeterred, she focused her energy on her other hand avoiding his, and focused extra hard on pounding the blade of his shoulder, just because hitting something that hard felt extra nice. "Come on, Mist! I just want to help!"

"I'm fine! I can take care of myself!" she snapped, ripping back.

"I know but-"

She swallowed, stepping back again. "It's been how long and you still don't think I can take myself? I run the gym and I'm teaching little kids how to swim and I've beaten your ass in battle on more than one occasion, not to mention how I just smacked you around right now, but, nope, little Misty just-"

"I didn't say that!" he growled. "I didn't say _any _of that! I know you can take care of yourself! I know you're tough! But just because you know how to beat someone up doesn't mean you can do anything about this! It's creepy psychic stuff! It could be dangerous!"

Misty looked suspiciously at the Lucario, who was chatting away with Pikachu, unaware that his master was still standing wide eyed in the doorway, watching the conflict with an anxious intensity. Then, with a barely restrained stomp of her foot, she snarled, "You do what you want, and you talk with this guy, and _you _take care of it while I hang out with the pool. I'll say thank you for the concern, but I don't need your help and I don't want your help."

When the girl had stormed off, Ash smiled at the man. "I really wanted to talk to Rio-sorry, Lucario, about aura. I thought I was going to need a lot more time, but if he's evolved, then conversation should be easy. It you need to stay the night or anything, it's me who called you. I can probably pay."

He frowned suddenly, running over to the door and picking up his backpack, at the same time waving him on into the house as he dug down for his wallet, searching for the last receipt he had that would tell him how much he had left in his account. By the time the man had taken a seat and finished promising that he would take care of it, and it was his choice to come, Ash had discovered that he had the funds and was eagerly rushing over to Lucario.

"How have you been? Training well?"

Lucario nodded shortly. _I protect my master and my family with all of my abilities._

"You feel different."

He stared for a moment just beyond Ash's shoulder, then their eyes met with a hot intensity. _I am different. These things happen when pokémon evolve. With such intense power shifts, anything can change. The flow of aura, personality, memories. You'll forgive me if I don't recall all of our last meeting. I remember it, but it blurs. I remember only those moves I learned as a child._

Ash took a step back, looking him up and down. His hand found the table, letting Pikachu leap up to his shoulder, noticing the sudden slight tremble in the mouse's body. "I've never heard about the memories thing. Is that something exclusive to riolou?"

_You doubt I am your friend_, he said, cocking his head to the side. He nodded. _Understandable._

Ash gave a shaky laugh, raising a hand up to pet Pikachu. "I'd really like you to convince me that you were."

Lucario did not convince him. Instead, Ash felt a cloth cover his mouth and wound up unconscious on the floor, Pikachu next to him with only a weak spark to his self-defense before he too was dragged into sleep. This was because, as Ash expected, this was not the Riolou he had known just a few years prior. This was not the grandson of that riolou's owner. This was a man who was proud to be a henchman of Hunter J, which was slowly turning more into an organization than an individual operation. This was a man who quite easily bound Ash's hands behind his back and set the pokémon in a shock proof cage, then waited calmly for the redhead to return to the front room.

When she did, she forze, damp from the pool, sticky with saltwater, and bare of any kind of pokeball that could have gotten her out of trouble. She spun on her heel quick as she could but Lucario was on her, pinning her hands behind her back, pressing her to the wall, and angling her so her chest slammed first, knocking the breath out of her and leaving her unable to breathe, let alone talk. Her mouth opened and closed frantically as she panicked, feeling the itchy, thick ropes knotting tight around her wrists. And, once her breath returned and she gasped to ready a scream, the cloth came down on her mouth, and she went limp against the wall.

While Lucario looked out the front to see if anyone was there, the man whipped out his phone and held the number one down until it beeped, then grinned as his boss picked up. "Jay, I have Ash Ketchum and his Pikachu with the Gym Leader Misty Yawa and Lucario is currently loading them into the van. I know you wanted to return to focus on blackmarket pokémon dealing, but I think you might like this one. Could be worth a little more."

She chuckled, and he could almost see the calculations in her eyes as she began to work out how much money she would pay to break even for the haul. "Oh, Zachary, don't try to sell me on some sort of power play. You know I'm not that type of girl."

"Aren't you?"

"Perhaps you should be offering it to someone else. I hear there's a half crazy man in Sinnoh who's try to end the world. I'm sure he'd love a nice little dose of an aura wielding freak and a beat up gym leader. I'd love that Pikachu though, dear, they're in this year. You wouldn't believe how many kids in Unova would sell their own mothers for one of these. Not that I'd take her, because, like I mentioned, I like money."

"No human trafficking, darling?" he asked, then waved Lucario on as he pointed at their hostages in question.

The pokémon obediently lifted Ash and took him outside, then came back for Pikachu, then Misty right after, loading them one by one into the back of the truck, sure to put the waterproof cover on and waiting near the car as his master wondered out, still half flirting and half negotiating with the woman on the other end of the phone. The Lucario dashed into the passenger's seat, showing his eagerness to leave as Zachary leaned against the driver's door, smirking now.

"Oh, I know, I know. I'm not saying that you should give up all of that, that's wonderful. Money is a great thing, but don't you ever want a little more? You could keep a few of those pokémon, and I'm just saying if you've got a little aura master on your hands you could be hauling in some prize specimens. You want to haul down a Suicune you just take these little babes out and whip them until they'll play for you."

"You claimed only one was a master of aura, the Ketchum boy. What on earth do I need the second one for?"

"Well, think of it this way. Not only I'm I giving you the latest in pokémon smuggling technology, I'm giving you a battery." He grinned at the covered trunk, nodding to himself proudly. "You're getting a battery that'll never run dry on you. You can just keep recharging and recharging the boy until he shorts out and drops dead. Once that happens you can probably just kill off the girl. Once you have her, you have her."

She snorted. "And if they're so wonderful, why exactly are you selling them to me?"

He got into the car and slammed the door shut behind him with a laugh. "Listen, Jay, if you need something rounded up, you call up me. If you needed something created up, people call you. You lock them up real tight, you feed them once a day, and you give me a cut. How's that sound, babe?"

**(PAGEBREAK)**

"I hate you."

"I know."

He had wanted to help, really he did, but he had his hands tied behind his back and his ankles tied together and wiggling wasn't helping the situation at all. It didn't help that he only had half a flatbed of a truck to move around, considering that Misty and Pikachu had taken up the other half, and with Pikachu still down for the count and, even if he was awake, unable to get out of the container, there was no way to gnaw through the ropes and set himself free. So, instead, he was stuck staring at her furious face, glad that there was enough cracks in the flatbed's cover so there was constant fresh air and light pouring in.

She sighed and rolled onto her back, though he bet laying on her hands must have been extremely uncomfortable and they were quiet for a little while longer while the both of them tried to think of some way to get out of the strange predicament they'd gotten into, then Misty rolled back over and, noting that he wasn't paying attention, swung her tied legs forward to slam her feet against his shins, hissing frantically, "It's a figure eight knot!"

"What was that for?" he snapped back, curling up and swearing because he couldn't rub the now painful spot.

She carried on eagerly, repeating, "We're tied up with a figure eight knot! I know how to undo that with my eyes closed."

"Great," he said dryly. "But your eyes aren't closed, your hands are tied. Can you undo that knot with those magical psychic powers you've never told me about before now?"

"I don't have psychic powers! I told you, whatever this aura stuff-"

"I was being _sarcastic_."

She sighed again, yelling and twisting this way and that so they could get back to back, and Misty got to work undoing the relatively easy knot, getting his hands free and then his feet, and soon enough, with her patient guidance, loosened the knots around her wrists until she could break free and undo her knots around her ankles. Another twenty minutes and they smashed the still unconscious Pikachu's cage open, so Ash could cuddle him tight.

"Still breathing," he said, relieved as he pressed his ear to the mouse's flank, listening to the heart beats so quick they it hummed and the smooth sound of air going in and out of his lungs. "I don't know why he did this. I mean, I guess he's not my friend-"

"You think?"

He glared. "I don't know who these people are or why they're taking us. I mean, nobody should even _know _about aura. It's something that's been…it's lost, or something. They used it in this kingdom a really long time ago and it was really rare, and I'm supposed to be one of the only people in the history of ever who can use it. Pokémon can use it, but most people can't. There's no way they could know. There's no way they would take us!"

She put her hands to her face and sighed, shifting off one of the ridges in the flatbed as she did. "This guy has to know you, Ash. He intercepted your email. He knew you invited someone to come. It doesn't matter if he took us because of aura or just because…because of something. What matters is he took us, and with Pikachu knocked out there's no way we can fight he off if he sees us getting out of here. So we need to figure out how to get-"

"Even if we get out of here without them seeing us or hearing us, the Lucario can use aura. He can see us. He's probably got half his mind focused on the back in case we try something. People can…I don't know, they can make shields and attacks, and I'm supposed to be able to do it to but I don't know _how_," he said, then groaned. "Misty, I'm so, so sorry. I didn't do it on purpose and I really just wanted you to be okay because your aura is really freakishly big. I mean, it's so big I don't know how you're not dead right now."

"It's big?" she asked, blinking slowly.

"I told you, I could probably sense you all the way over in Johto. It's bigger than-"

"Blindingly big?"

"You made a sandwich glow."

"What do-" She cut herself off and shook her head. "If I'm that big, if I'm blinding, then if I stay here, it won't make a difference if you leave, right? Because I'm so bright, if Lucario looks back here, the only thing he can see is me. You and Pikachu are too small to be noticed, especially if he's not focusing all the way."

"Yeah, but I can't just leave you here," he said, rolling his eyes. She half smiled, and he shot up, slamming his head on the tarp and falling back down. "No! I'm not going to leave you here! I mean, if he wanted me and he just caught you because you were there, he'll kill you off! He didn't mind drugging us and tossing us in the back of his truck, he's got serial killer written all over him."

"If he didn't want me he would have killed me off already. Why would he waste time tying me up?"

He grabbed her wrist. "I can't just _leave_."

"You're not just leaving. Look, once Pikachu is awake you can get him to zap open the lock of the trunk. You can get out of the trunk, quietly, because it's probably dark by now. If the road's not crowded, you're set. We've been traveling long enough that you can survive a few days on your own until you find a rest stop or something. From there, you can figure out a way to come back for me, or maybe I'll figure out a way to escape. Either way, if you can get out, we both have a better chance."

"And how am I supposed to find you?" he argued. "You don't have a tracker on you, right?"

"I'm blinding. You'll be able to find me, won't you?"

"I've never looked that far."

"Well, you have at least until Pikachu wakes up," she encouraged. "Why don't you practice?"

** (PAGEBREAK)**

Getting out of the truck was a success, aside from the scrapes he got problem the pavement and what he suspected was a broken right arm. But Pikachu had gotten out okay, and as he raced onto the side of the road he tried to keep everything as still as possible. Each step still sent a shot of pain up through his arm, and standing on the side of the road, jerking his thumb at anyone who passed wasn't helping. Still, he kept walking and jerking his thumb and hoping that, sooner or later, he'd catch a break.

He did, finding himself lucky enough to be only a day's walk from Fuscia City. He immediately sent Pikachu into the Center and sent himself to a hospital, clenching his fists as the nurse set his arm and wrapped it up tight, giving him two pills in a plastic cup that knocked him out for the rest of the night but took away his pain for quite a bit longer. By the time he had picked up Pikachu, the air cast was concealing a particularly painful clean break and the throbbing was manageable.

From there, he started planning. Phone calls brought him Charizard, Snorlax, one of his many tauros, donphan and his Staraptor for its flying speed. The rest were for pure power, and that was all the strategy he planned on using. Charizard could fly with him, but not as well as Staraptor, and Staraptor was nowhere near the beast in firepower. Snorlax could block anything. Tauros, if its power could not be used, could at least be ridden on to give him some speed. Donphan could break down any wall with a rollout, he was sure.

"What exactly are you planning, Ash?" Professor Oak asked with a grin. "This isn't your usual style."

"Just something new."

And then he sat down and sent out his senses as far as they could go. It was one thing to do it in a kingdom made of little more than rocks and dirt and the occasional life darting from one place to another, and quite another to do it in the lush region of Pallet. Every plant screamed at him, finally glad to have someone listen after all the years of isolation. Pokémon scooted away from his sudden presence, throwing off riders and snapping at their trainers, and humans shook their head at the buzz that filled their head.

Ash promptly fainted.

When he woke up, Pikachu was nipping his hand black and blue, his hair standing high on the back of his neck and growling softly at first, then yelling at him in pika-speak for doing something so reckless and stupid. Ash pushed him away and tried again, this time more cautiously. Rather then spreading his senses everywhere, he sent it in lines, long and far and straight, spinning like a radar in a way that made him dizzy so he had to rest every few minutes.

She was there, though. He felt her, and he knew how far she was and he knew she was healthy but scared and trapped, but he had no idea how to put it into words. He couldn't name a city nearby, and he couldn't name the miles, and he couldn't name how long it would take to get there. Instead, he ignored Pikachu's occasional mutter and brought out staraptor and flew until he was circling Cinnabar Island, over the old, beaten down mansion he knew she was being kept in.

He landed just beyond the mansion, putting Staraptor away and sending out his senses again, deep into the core of the building where he could feel her simmering. She was getting angry, now, and much more frightened then before, and there were plenty of people and pokémon in the mansion with her. Aside from the few wild ratatas, at least, what he assumed were wild, as they were weak and creeping through vents, the building had been cleared. That meant it was being used for something.

But the thing that made him truly nervous was the fear he could feel from her. As far as he knew, fear wasn't common with Misty, not without bugs near. Even then, it wasn't too this level. It seeped into his own bones, sent a shiver down his spine and felt deeper. It felt like dread and a touch of desperation all mixed in, and he had to pull back before his legs went too weak to hold him up. It disturbed him deep enough that Pikachu felt the need to comfort him, done with his scolding and giving nothing but gentle licks to the boy's cheek.

"I don't know what that feeling is supposed to be, Pikachu. I don't know what they're doing."

The mouse nuzzled him softly one more time, then bit down until he bled. Ash immediately yelped and jumped to his feet, sucking on the sore sport before shouting, "I told you I was sorry! I know it was stupid but it was the only thing I knew how to-"

His tail came between his legs, pressing tight against his stomach as he slowly backed up, a soft, "Cha," coming breathlessly and quite nearly inaudibly.

"Please tell me you weren't just answering my question," he pleaded weakly.

Pikachu gave a short nod, rushing forward as Ash's knees hit the grass. He squeezed his hands into tight fists and tried not to cry, because he had things to do. After a brief moment of gasping and stumbling to his feet, he was releasing tauros and donphan and breaking down the doors and bursting into the building, anything to get to the heart of it all, where the horrifying feeling rocketed out of Misty. The kind of feeling that came from torture.

But he had to pull up short, because a scientist came stumbling out, sobbing helplessly, with part of his lab coat scorched away and the flesh underneath burnt and red and blistering quickly. The man grabbed at Ash's pant leg, looking up at him and begging, "Oh, Mew, please help."

"Where's my friend?" he seethed, taking a nervous step back as the man collapsed on the floor.

The scientist coughed, sending blood out onto the floor before he rolled to his side with a moan, his eyes going close and that tiny little flicker of aura Ash was using to see him suddenly going as dark as the floor he was laying on. He brought up more of his power, looking to see if there was any light of life in the man, when the voice came, sounding in his head rather than the room around, but clear and crisp and far more defined than anything he'd heard before.

Ho-Oh, was the voice timid, but how it made him shake when he heard: _I think I did something bad, Ash._


	35. Bet

_bet - Too addicted to fiction_

* * *

**Bet**

Kanto held the Masuta Conference once every ten years. There were no limitations on joining, bar a trainer's license, which was easy enough to come by. Whether a trainer with a fresh caught pidgey and not a badge to their name, or a veteran with a powerhouse team snarling and snapping at whoever passed them, all were equal here. The battle match ups were random, no rules were instituted, just a brawl that went for months. Match after match, until only the seasoned trainers remained, the kind that were a patchwork of scars and sinewy muscle, and had pokémon that would hardly think twice about drawing blood if it meant a win. Once the veterans took up the arena, the Matsura Conference could really begin.

The Matsura Conference, in fact, took a sharp turn once a few rounds had passed, for the better or worse was hotly debated in nearly every circle. However, the topic of the discussion was never the safety of the pokémon. The battlers themselves were not injured in the veteran battles any more than they were in the open ones. Injuries were standard, rarely severe, and countable on a single hand the times they were fatal. On the contrary, it was the human death tolls that climbed, and the amount of trainers who entered the emergency room was limitless, because the veterans played a different game. The Matsura Conference was a war then, regions sending their best and political powers shuffling billions of dollars around like quarters in a friends and family poker game. Death was not a side effect. Death was expected. Death was desired, and it had to be human.

Then came a boy, fourteen years old, but strong. He was lean, and he had a bright smile and his skin was uncut, and the stadium frowned because a fresh faced boy like him should have been knocked out long ago. But there he stood, standing proud next to the veterans with a Pikachu on his shoulder and a calm obliviousness that made the audience pause. They wanted these men and women to be shielded to bleed for a prize and to prove their region was best. They didn't care if he had earned the right to stand there, fans bellowed and stomped and hissed that they wanted him out.

"People won't pay for you," one leader said, glaring down her long nose that she used to sniff pityingly. "I certainly wouldn't, and I'm a risk taker. I bet thirty thousand in a casino last May, just last May, kid, and I wouldn't put a penny on you."

He frowned. "But I've been winning."

"You want to die?" A man hissed.

"Course not!"

"Then get out!" he snapped. "Come back when you're ready!"

"I don't plan on dying! I _am _ready."

He glared. "Proves you're not. A boy thinks he's invincible, a man knows he isn't. Come back when you're a man."

"It's an open tournament," he protested desperately, spinning to look at the council before him. "If I win, I'm a master. No one will ever think I'm not. I could never win again and they'd still call me master. It's worth it, for that."

"Death is worth it?" the woman asked.

"Yes," he said, and the room leaned back from the determination in his voice, his fists clenched tight by his sides. "Anything is worth it, even death."

They began murmuring, nice things about his courage, by doubting and pitying, and sure that they would kick him out before he learned the terrors that the Matsura Conference held, until one man leaned forward, brown hair and eyes with a square face and a stern set jaw, and one of the few who did not have a nametag, who knew his name would be in everyone's minds. He spoke loudly, hushing everyone else in the room, asking, "Your name is Ash Ketchum?"

"Yessir," he said, nodding quickly. "From Pallet."

"Is your mother Delia Ketchum?" he pressed.

Ash frowned, thinking it strange, but confirmed, "Yeah, that's my mom. Do you know her?"

"Best peach cobbler in the world," he said, leaning back with a grin. It was cocky and comfortable, and there was a reminiscent gleam in his eye that made Ash wonder exactly whether the older man was thinking about peach cobbler, or something else entirely. "You appreciate that when you win. Ask her to make a big one for you."

"Yes sir!" Ash gasped, eyes wide.

He tapped the paper in front of him twice, then announced, "Giovanni for a million on the boy. Let him stay."

* * *

Yay for Ash and the complicated relationship with his evil megalomaniac father! Did Giovanni do it because he believes in Ash? Did he do it because he wants the boy to die? Did he want the billions of dollars he would make if Ash won because the odds of him winning are so low?

I dunno. I'm not going to write this one. But, that does mean it's up for grabs for anyone who likes it enough to take a shot at it! If you want it, go ahead and ask. I'd love to read it.


	36. Trigger

_I suggest assassins. Rival assassins if need be, but the urge to assassinate whoever the target is will be overcome by love. Kaprikorn- Ancient Storm Lord_

**Trigger**

If anything, he liked all out shoot outs. You didn't really _know _who you were shooting at, and even less who you actually hit. What that meant was there was a general, strong, always accepted excuse. It was dark. He didn't know. It could have been anyone. Well, until it was all over and all was identified He liked forming alliances in his group, having people to back him up and knowing exactly who he could rely on. Sure, more people may have been pointing their guns his way, but at least he wasn't alone.

Now, he was alone. It was one on one, and he knew who he was shooting. The girl, cocky as she was, didn't bother hiding her hair. Red and bright and sticking out, even in the darkness. He was lucky enough to have the camouflage built in, with his dark hair and tanned skin, and his affinity for dark blue clothes, all of which vanish quickly in the dark. Still, she knew what they were doing. She chose that yellow shirt and red suspenders and the shorts short enough so that far too much of her pale skin nearly glowed. She was asking to get shot, honestly. She was just asking for it.

His whole arm trembled as her raised the gun, looking down at the girl. Her face met his, and she smiled. She actually _smile_. She had the nicest smile, and the nerve she had to smile so lightly at a time like this, when you had to look your enemy in the eye and pull the trigger. He was fifteen, and she was pretty and smart, and, dammit, as much as he hated to admit it, she was even _sexy_. She wasn't overly curvy and she was tall and thin but he couldn't move, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't-

There was a beep, and a sudden dimness all around him, followed by loud, gleeful laughter as Misty bounced around below, ducking for cover in case she's misjudged the time. She hadn't, of course. They both had watched that glowed in the dark, and they would find a place not too lit with glowing paint and black lights above to check it before rushing back into the fray. They knew the time exactly, and a moment later, her gun charged down as well, and they scrambled out, Ash rushing ahead to check his score first, though knowing what the news would be.

"I should start making you put money on this," she taunted, the smell of arcade pizza wafting up from down stairs, and the dinging, yelling, laughing sounds that came from the little machines all around them nearly drowning out her voice. She spoke louder, effortlessly, and topped the noise: "You know, I bet I'd be filthy rich by know."

"It's not like it means anything," Ash fumed, wandering up as the man handed him a paper with his stats and the name Pokemstr at the top. It said second for sure, and he crumpled it up, avoiding her smirk. "It's only Laser Tag."

* * *

I'm sorry it's short and that it's been too weeks! It's been crazy busy around here, and the only thing I can update is a drabble collection because I've written them all and I can just copy and paste.

Hopefully, I can get the next update out quicker, but it'll definitely be longer. Go ahead and keep suggesting cliches, thank you for reading and even reviewing, and I hope you all know what Laser Tag is.


	37. The Date

My computer is gone, and I was on vacation, so all I have are scraps of paper. I can't update some of my other stories, but hopefully it should come back soon and all will return to normalcy.

Also, I'm moving out to college next Monday, so I hope I can find the time to work on everything I can!

Two different people suggested blind date and bashing fic, I can't remember who, so just tell me who and I'll fill it in.

* * *

"I know I've never said it before, but I've just never had the courage to." Eyes met, clashing with an age old rivalry, and despite the growing unease at the situation, the read head refused to look away from him. He leaned forward, daring her to break, and continued, "But I love you. I think I've always loved you. Would you do me the honor of being my bride?"

Blue green eyes narrowed, twinkling with mirth despite her very unamused face. "I'm pretty sure that's illegal."

Plain green eyes glinted with wicked glee, and Drew struggled to keep his lips from twitching into a smile at his older cousins displeasure. "Last time I checked, we were related by marriage, not blood, and you know second cousins don't count. Don't hide your feelings, Misty. This date has revealed your love. Marry me."

Her lips were twitching now, though her voice was deadpan as she retorted, "You know, you're not funny."

He picked up her hand and, ever so delicately, pressed his lips against her fingers, and she laughed, unable to take the joke. He sat back and smirked, because she had cracked and he had won, and waited for her giggles to stop. It took a while and he helped himself to ice water and French bread, enjoying the light, flaky flavor the fancy restaurant had offered. He had put on a suit and his cousin had a dress, and damn it all if he was going to let it go to waste.

"Our friends," she said, calming and wiping tears of mirth from her eyes, "are complete idiots."

"_Your_ friends," he corrected.

"You don't like them?" she teased, helping herself to some light bread and fresh whipped butter, which she spread with a little silver butter knife. "Here I thought you _loved _them. Maybe not _them_, exactly but you definitely love-"

"I'd love for you to keep your mouth shut," he snapped, and frowned now that she was smirking. "But they set us up on a blind date, thinking we had never met and not even _asking _us if we know each other. I mean, we're _cousins_."

"How could they know?"

"It's a matter of public record!" he said, exasperated. "Ash Ketchum, May Maple, Max Maple, Brock Slate – all of them are idiots."

"Ah, there's your problem," misty said, putting her chin in her hand. "You assume they can access the public record, which implies they can read, and we don't know for sure that's true."

"How do they screw up this badly?" Drew asked, fingers drumming on the table. "Why would they even _want _to set this up?"

She shrugged. "They probably think we're similar or something. You don't need to be so-"

"Well, that's a stupid reason. My mother and I have loads in common, but I'm not planning on dating her anytime soon."

"We're nearly the same age," Misty suggested.

"First of all, that's a stupid reason. Second, you're older by two years."

"So?"

"Do I really seem like I want to date older women?" he drawled, gesturing to himself as if his appearance stated otherwise. And, with his alpha male posture, she supposed it did. He certainly wouldn't want anyone more experienced than him in anything, really.

"So, that doesn't mean-"

"They idiots," Drew finished icily.

She sighed. "Alright, they're idiots. But they're-"

"_Meddling_ idiots," he emphasized.

She stared for a moment, lips slight parted as she struggled to think up a retort, a good quality, and suddenly found herself entirely stumped, consenting, "They're meddling, obnoxious, rude, idiotic idiots, who couldn't even both to see if the people they were setting up knew each other, let alone were related." She held up a finger. "However…"

He arched a brow. "Yes?"

"They _are_ meddling, obnoxious, rude, idiotic idiots who couldn't even bother to see if the people they were setting up knew each other, let alone were related," she paused dramatically, "who are paying for our dinner."

"Oh, that makes everything fine," he said sarcastically.

She giggled, tapping the menu gleefully. "It does if we get the lobster."


	38. Chocolate Cake

_Characters reading fanfiction about them and commenting on how strange it is, from Kael Hyun_

**Chocolate Cake**

Dawn wasn't all that obsessed with the internet. She could use the internet to log onto her favorite contest sites, check her email from her mother, her friends, and the aforementioned websites. So she wasn't one for websurfing. So she wasn't one to sit in front of the computer for hours. So it was quite shocking when Dawn spent the better part of the day sitting in front of the screen with her mouth hanging open, clicking through pages and pages and pages of text. She couldn't bring herself to look away, to stop clicking, because she felt as if she had just stumbled into an entirely different world, and she was desperate to see as much of it as possible.

"Dawn?" Ash asked curiously, stepping in the room. He had knocked, but she hadn't responded. Ash, being Ash, assumed the worst and walked on in, expecting Team Rocket to have carried her off, instead finding yet another internet addict. "We were supposed to have a practice battle three hours ago and, uh…we're not battling. We can cancel it today, if you're busy. And, I mean, if you want to be alone I-"

"I'll be out in ten seconds."

"That's what you said two hours ago!" He crept closer, looking over her shoulder because he knew she wouldn't mind, and reading: "Fanfiction dot net. Unleash your imagination. And you're looking at…Pokémon Adventures? There's a book? I thought it was just a comic book."

"Graphic novel," Dawn corrected, not looking away from the screen. "And it's not canon. There isn't any canon book. It's fanfiction. Other people write it. Oh and there's fanart, that's where people draw stuff. None of it's canon, though."

"What's canon?" he asked. "And are people allowed to do that?"

"You have to put a disclaimer. Once you do that, you can do whatever you want." She suddenly let out a high pitch squeal and clicked a link. "KasumixRed! Oh, Mew! Do you know how hard it is to find that pairing? It's all RedxYellow or RedxGreen or RedxBlue. It's impossible to find RedxKasumi!"

Nervously, he read over her shoulder, seeing: _She lifted the fork to her mouth, sucking the chocolate cake off it with a moan. "Face it, Red," she taunted, her blue orbs shining, "You'll never have anything this rich." He stared, drowning in infinite pools of cerulean, feeling his soul detach from him and making him feel like he was flying. He couldn't resist her. Her lips were two rose petals, pouting, and he seized them as his own, conquering her mouth with his probing tongue while her knees went out and she moaned desperately, "Oh, Red! I've always loved you! I need you so-"_

"That's so OOC," Dawn said in disgust, clicking back. "Not to mention doesn't make sense. Red was supposed to be training in Mt. Silver."

"Wait!" Ash yelped. "Go back!"

"Why? It was stupid," she scoffed. "Besides, isn't it weird for you to read it?"

He cocked his head, confused. "Because I'm a guy?"

"Because of Kasumi."

"Huh?"

"Kasumi, the character who got her design from your friend Misty?" she asked. She saw his blank stare and huffed, crossing her arms over her chest, "Isn't it weird seeing your best friend being paired up with people and making out with them? I mean, _I'd_ be freaking out."

His face turned bright scarlet. "But it's not _really _Misty."

"Yeah, but-" She cut herself off then rolled her eyes, shaking her head at it all. _"Boys._"

"Fine!" He snapped, stomping his foot. "I'm going to go into town, and get some hamburgers and sodas and chocolate cake, and when you're done with your stupid…your stupid stories, you can come and find me and we can actually do something worthwhile!"

"Whatever." She waved her hand absently, and he stormed out of the room, acting like he was ten rather than sixteen. On and on she clicked for the next twenty minutes. She looked at stories and fanart, and, on closer inspection, happened to notice that Red was from Pallet Town, and while certainly not identical, Red actually kind of _looked_ like Ash. Ash knew about the manga, so that _must _have been weird, to see a version of himself and Misty mak-

She sat up from her computer, blinking off the bright lights from the screen, and mumbled, "Did he say chocolate cake?"


	39. The Night Bus

_Hoppip wanted vampires, and added a perhaps, unintentional challenge of Ash being one, since she claimed she oculdn't see him running around and biting people's necks._

_I agree._

And, to FTEcho4, the bus is not evil. I promise.

* * *

"What's up, May?" Max asked at the other end of the line. "Did you get the-?"

"I'm on the bus," she hissed, curling up tight against the seat. She was in the very front, her back pressed to the hard plastic that separated her from the driver and was the posting place for advertisements like the Petalburg Annual Fair. She had her phone in her hand, her purse in her lap, and a small pot of flowers with a _Get Well Soon! _card sticking out of the top of it in the seat just in front of hers. The bus was mostly empty, just her and five others.

The five people consisted of an old woman, a mother and child, and a pair of teens not much older than her. She didn't mind the old woman, who sat in the middle of the bus, pushing those weird, individually wrapped prunes into her mouth. The mother and child weren't too much of a problem, though the child must have just fallen asleep, since the mother was wearing a glare that could burn a hole through diamond. She was muttering in a language May didn't know, which was kind of scary, but not the reason she had called her brother Max. It was the last two people that finally drove her to her tiny flip phone.

"Uh, thanks for the update, May."

"There are _vampires_ on the bus."

There was a long sigh on the other end of the line, and Max explained patiently. "There are no such things as vampires, and, you know, most girls get all mushy and fall in love when they read Twilight. They don't get scared."

"I'm not scared because of that!" she hissed quietly. "I'm scared because there are real vampires on the bus. I need you to stay on the line in case I die."

"First of all, how does me being on the line when you die help at all? Second, you should know that if my phone bill goes over, you're paying for it."

Even if she did have to pay for the bill, May felt it would be worth it, as she hoped that somehow her phone would deter the would be couple of terrifying killers who sat in the very back of the bus. Only the redheaded one was pale, sure, and even then she wasn't abnormally so. The boy was actually tan, and fairly sickly looking, but still seemed creepy. They weren't doing anything, least of all to her. The girl was listening to her ipod, the boy was scratching his Pikachu behind the ears with a slight smile. His teeth didn't look sharp, but the sight of them still made her shudder.

"You know it's probably just bus people, right?" Max said, interrupting her thoughts.

"What?" she whispered. "Is that a kind of-?"

"No, not vampires. You know…just the people who ride the bus a little too much. They know the bus driver on a first name basis, they greet everyone when they get on the bus, they get really excited when Tito comes on with red lines on his arms and really bloodshot eyes. Those are bus people."

"Tito? Did some guy offer you drugs?" she yelped.

"It was an example, May."

"An example of what _happened_?" she insisted nervously.

"No, May. There is no man named Tito and he didn't offer me drugs. I'm fine. And there are no vampires on the bus, just creepy bus people. You're going to be fine."

"You'll be sorry when I come home dead."

"I'm always sorry when you come home," he said dryly.

Then the bus plunged into darkness as they went through a tunnel. Her phone service instantly fizzled out and she yelped, slamming her phone shut and closing her eyes tight, imagining the teens suddenly leaping forward from the back of the bus, digging their teeth into her neck, and sucking her blood, and the old woman saying, "Oh my, Tito must have run out of meth this week!" which is an odd thing for an old woman to say, but probably not the oddest part of the scenario.

Not that any of it happened. The only thing that happened was that the redhead had moved to the other row, directly across from her dark haired companion, and glared at him from time to time. Pikachu had taken her seat and was chattering angrily at the boy, who was looking shamefaced out the window. So, apparently, the ten seconds in the tunnel was enough time for a fight, and that was practically proof of vampire superspeed.

She was about to call Max again when the bus schreeched to a sudden halt. The phone clattered to the ground and then in a cruel twist of fate, the bus zoomed up a hill, and her phone slid backwards. Her thought was, _Oh no. Now I have to go to the back of the bus,_ but the reality was the redhead had already picked up the phone, walked forward, and sat in the seat next to May, handing the phone back quietly.

May's eyes widened and her hand shook as she took it, and she couldn't help blurting, "Are you a vampire?"

She gave a small smile and nodded towards the back, where the boy glanced at them once, then looked away with a blush. "He is. I'm a selkie. Well, half a selkie. My mom actually seduced my dad onto shore. She didn't steal his dewgong skin, and he kept coming back. They're still together. It's nice. I age normally and everything, but, you know, he does too. Ash, I mean. The vampire back there."

"I thought vampires didn't age," May said nervously.

"Well, things like us are mostly half creatures. He's half zubat or crowbat or something. He can change. He evolves like a pokemon if he gets strong enough in that form, you know? He keeps telling me what he can change into, but I always forget, because he never does it." She sighed and thought for a moment, tapping her pale chin gently. "The sun hurts his eyes so he doesn't go out much. Um, what else? He's got, like, a territory and he goes back during the day to sleep, just like zubats. The biggest thing is blood. It's what, well, we got into another fight over it."

May gulped. "Because you don't want him to kill people?"

He eyes widened. "Ash? Of, Arceus, no. Ash doesn't…Ash would _never_. I mean, he couldn't kill anything."

"Then how does he-?"

"He buys it," she said in a rush, desperately defending her friend. "He buys pig blood and stuff. Mew, you don't kill your own cows for your cheeseburger, do you?"

"No."

'You don't see a cow and think it looks tasty, right?"

"No," she said, shaking her head.

"Well, it's the same with him. Just because you're made of the stuff he'd like to eat doesn't mean you're appetizing. He's grossed out by blood anyoway. He used to be human. He wasn't _born _that way. He doesn't drink human blood, and it makes him sick. I just wish he…" She trailed off and frowned.

They fell into silence for a minute, and May realized that not only was she having this strange conversation, but that she was strangely okay with the idea that there were vampires and selkies and all other sorts of things, and that they frequently rode the bus. With that in mind, she decided that, if she was going to believe it, she should find out as much as she could so she could defend herself from creatures that were, perhaps, not so nice as these two, and asked, "Um, how'd it happen? If it's private, it's okay."

"No," she said "It's fine. The idiot swapped blood with a zubat or something. One that was, of course, a vampire. It had gotten attacked by a noctowl, and Ash had a cut on his hand when he was fixing the stupid thing. He _always _has cuts, and he never fixes them or puts on a bandage or let's me _help_."

"Can you like…?" She wiggled her fingers, attempting to immitate some kind of magic.

"Not much. It speed things up a little. I can fight off minor infections sometimes. It's not much and it tires me out for a while, but if I had, he wouldn't be like this now." She looked back longily at the boy, and a few seconds later,he looked back at her, making her frown return and her eyes snap back to the brunette. "I should have done it anyway, even though he didn't want me too."

"He knew you were a mermaid before he turned into a vampire?"

"Selkie," she corrected hotly. "Mermaids are half caravana, you know. They're murderous. And yeah, he knew, he didn't mind. He found out when we were traveling. We needed food, so I put on my skin to hunt."

"Sailors?"

"Fish." She crossed her arms. "I'm not a mermaid. I just said that."

"Sorry," May said, feeling like being compared to a mermaid was suddenly a great offense. "So, what did you guys fight about?"

She glared at the boy again, but looked away before he could feel her eyes on her. "He won't take my blood."

"Why are you giving it to him?" May asked. "Wouldn't you turn into a vampire?"

"I wouldn't. You have to swap blood, first off, and even if we did, I wouldn't," she explained. "I'm not human enough for that. But I'm human enough to help. I mean, it's not anymore than a blood donation. I can get a syringe and do it myself, safely. It's not that hard to get trained on how to take blood. I mean, you can go to any heroine junkie and they'll teach you how to find a vein for some cash. I don't mind. Aside from the needle, it won't hurt."

May cocked her head to the side curiosuly. "So why doesn't he want to?"

"Oh, the typical stuff." She put her head in her hands and sighed. "Morals. Like drinking human blood is going to make him suddenly want to kill people. It just makes him healthy. If he drank my blood, aside from getting his human strength back, he'll get some vampire bits too. He'll be a little stronger, a little faster, not much, but it _helps_. I tell him, but he won't listen."

"Well, that doesn't seem so bad. I mean, I would suck on my fingers when I got a cut. I did it for Max, my brother, when we were little. As long as you're giving it to him, it's like…I don't know." She thought for a moment, then smiled. "It's like a blood transfusion!"

"Exactly!" the other girl said eagerly. "I'm not saying he needs to go around hurting people. I don't want him too. I just want him to get better. I mean, is that so much to ask? It's not even for me. You know, if it was for me, he'd do it in a heartbeat. I mean, he'd slice his own wrists for anyone else, and whenever I tell him that he just says that it's different, but it's not."

May blinked. "He won't even do it for your sake? But aren't the two of you…you're a couple, aren't you?"

The girl flushed brightly. "Oh, Mew, no. We're friends. I mean, we're close friends, but we're not together. But that doesn't mean I don't _care_ about him. Hell, he's the first one who wouldn't freak out when he found out what I was." She elbowed May gently. " I mean, what was your reaction when you first found out?"

"Um, I just found out."

The girl gawked. "Now?"

"Yes."

"Wow." She stared, then seemed to get over that quick enough, chatting amicably, "First time on the bus then? Well, night bus. There's always one or two magical things on the night bus."

"I can't believe you're so open about this. Aren't you afraid that scientists are going to take you apart and experiment on you?"

"There's a government arrangement with us. In exchange for us being drafted first in war to do more dangerous missions and being allowed to dissect our bodies when we die, we get secrecy and basic human rights. There's a meeting every fifty years to renew it. I think it started in…I want to say about two thousand years ago, but I think it's a little longer than that. At least, I think it's long than that in Kanto."

"Well, how'd you know you could trust me?"

Her smile wavered a bit, but she forced it on. "I didn't know. I still don't. But you…you looked scared, and you've got…who are those for?"

May lifted the flowers from the seat that separated the two of them. "Uh, they're a get well gift. My neighbor is in the hospital. He had a stroke while gardening."

"I figured, if you had get well flowers, you liked to help people. I hopes you were nice and that maybe…if you're human, entirely human, and you don't even know him and you think it'd be okay, maybe he'll listen to you. Maybe he'll start taking care of himself, and not think he's a monster. It's a lot to ask, but…" She swallowed nervously. "I'm so afraid for him. If he doesn't…there are diseases, you know. Only vampires can get them, and it can kill him and…and…"

Though looking at the boy at the back of the bus did give her the same bit of fear that she had when she saw something big and scary and definitely a meat eater, she couldn't help but notice now how amazingly frail he looked, how he leaned against the window like he was absolutely exhausted, though if he slept during the day he should be awake now. The girl next to her, although still eminating that feel of strangeness, looked human in her expressions. She looked scared for her secret, worried for the vampire, and hopeful that May would be able to help, would be willing to help, and, because of that, she didn't look scary at all.

May gently took the girl's hand, tucked her phone away in her pocket, and led her to the back of the bus.

* * *

See? And _none_ of that happened to me. None of it.

...Except perhaps Tito and two girls who were so excited to see him I could only imagine that he was their drug dealer.

But, you know, aside from that, nothing. :)


	40. CONFESSION DAY COUNTDOWN

_Steveaaml – something involving Misty, Ash, and Ash's Original Hat._

_magiquill9cliche - with ash and misty getting together on valentines day._

_Steveaaml - How about when Ash is practising confessing his feelings for Misty (with Brock, or Dawn, or Pikachu or someone), and Misty walks in and assumes he's in love with who he was with._

**CONFESSION DAY COUNTDOWN – ONE WEEK**

After several long years and one long conversation, Ash had decided to explain to Brock that he had quite the crush on Misty. Brock took this in stride, telling him that, apparently, he already knew that. Ash didn't like that he hadn't concealed his secret well, but he trusted Brock to tell him the right thing to do. Brock's plan, being the corny romantic he was, was to confess his undying love to Misty on Valentine's Day.

"Brock, do I really have to tell her on _Valentine's Day_?" Ash asked, a blush crawling up his face at the thought of getting down on one knee with a box of candy hearts and looking as stupid as Brock did whenever he tried to woo a girl. Not that Ash ever thought the word "woo". He _was _Ash, after all. "It's bad enough that I have to confess, but on Valentine's Day? That's just so…so embarrassing. Can't I do it some other way?"

"You're home for all of February, Ash. If you're going to tell Misty you love her, Valentine's Day is the perfect way to do that," Brock said firmly. "It's romantic and beautiful and-"

"This is one of those holidays that she gives out weird facts on. Don't you remember the mistletoe stuff at Christmas? Or last year, when Daisy started bragging about all her Valentine's Day gifts and Misty got all jealous and spent twenty minutes telling us all about the Saint Valentine's Day Massacre and then kept offering Daisy wine with an Italian mobster accent? I don't think she's really that big a fan of-"

Brock interrupted him, brushing off his arguments. "Misty just acts that way because she's never had a boyfriend on Valentine's Day. If you confess on Valentine's Day, she'll love it. You know she loves romantic stuff."

"But she likes romantic stuff like sunsets and France. I don't know if she likes some of the other stuff, except for chocolate." Ash grinned a little. "I know she likes that."

Brock patted him warmly on the shoulder, and passed him a notebook and pen before heading out of the boy's room to head back to Pewter. "Start writing your confession, Ash."

His eyes widened with horror and he yelped, "I have to _what_?"

* * *

**CONFESSION DAY COUNTDOWN – SIX DAYS**

Ash woke up sometime around noon, stumbling down the stairs in a t-shirt and his boxers, expecting his mom to be out shopping or gardening and that he would have to try and make his own sandwich. It probably wouldn't taste very good, but it was food, and he was always hungry, especially now that he was fifteen and hitting another growth spurt.

However, although this would usually be a normal home activity, it was absolutely mortifying to come down in a t-shirt and boxers and see your crush, fully dressed, looking pretty, and smirking at you because you looked like an absolute idiot.

"Morning, Ash! Well, good afternoon," she teased, eyes dancing with glee. "Gees, you slept late. You never could handle jetlag, could you?"

He gawked, and his hands came to subconsciously covered his crotch. "What are you doing here?"

"Saying hi."

He grinned. "Well, thanks for coming."

"…To your mom," she said, giggling, barely managing to speak. "But I'll probably come back in a couple of days. Your mom has been giving me cooking lessons."

"You haven't burned the house down."

She stuck out her tongue. "No, I'm not stupid."

"Are you getting any better?" he said, trying his best to be friendly.

She glared. "Shut up."

...but a chance that good couldn't possibly be passed up, and he taunted, "That good, huh?"

"I told you to shut up."

* * *

**CONFESSION DAY COUNTDOWN – FIVE DAYS**

"Misty was here yesterday?"

"Yeah."

"Did you confess?"

"No. I'm writing it, like you said, Brock."

"Good." There was an awkward silence. "Are you going to put clothes on today?"

"I have underwear."

"I noticed."

"Underwear _is _clothes."

"Right. My mistake."

* * *

**CONFESSION DAY COUNTDOWN – FOUR DAYS**

Misty was there again the next morning, and, in the case of just that, he was sure to put some pants on before he came downstairs. She looked up at him from the table, and he'd caught her early enough so she looked a little tired and rumpled from bed (though, unfortunately, still looking plenty pretty). Then, with just as much mocking as the day before the last, she said, "I heard you didn't put on pants yesterday."

"Did Brock tell you that?"

"Your mom told me."

"Oh."

There was a long staring contest between them, and Ash hoped he was psychic and by thinking very hard that Misty shouldn't ask, that Misty wouldn't ask. This was not the case, and she leaned forward, looking extremely baffled, "Why'd Brock know you were naked?"

"I had underwear," he defended quickly.

She nodded shortly. "Alright then."

"Underwear is clothes."

"I know that." Her face said that she did _not _believe that.

"We weren't…" He gulped. "I'm not gay."

"Oh, I know," saying it a way that didn't sound entirely genuine.

"It'd be okay if I was."

She nodded again. "I never said it wouldn't be."

"But I'm straight. I just don't like pants."

"I'm staying here for a few days."

"Oh, uh…I'll wear pants then."

One more nod to end their conversation for the day. "Thanks for that."

* * *

**CONFESSION DAY COUNTDOWN - THREE DAYS**

"So, just say it like I'm Misty."

"This is a bad idea."

"Just do it. It's practice."

"Alright, well...well, I think I'm in love with you."

It was at that very moment that Misty walked by the room, stopped, backed up, and peered in at Brock and Ash, both sitting on Ash's bed, and Ash looking intently at Brock. She had most definitely heard those words, and watched Ash leap up crying, "Oh, Mew, Mist! I'm not...there's a girl I like and...and Brock said I should practice! I didn't even want to!"

She stared for a moment longer, then burst into a fit of laughter, walking down the stairs and nearly tripping in her hysteria.

* * *

**CONFESSION DAY COUNTDOWN - TWO DAYS**

"And I...I well, you've been there from the beginning, from day one. You're really funny and smart, and you never let me get out of control or anything and...and, I like you. I really like you. And, I don't want to say it's love, because I don't think I should yet. I mean, I don't think I love you yet, but I like you. I really, really like you."

And, in perfect timing, just as she had before, Misty walked by the room, stopped, backed up, and peered in at Ash, looking very intimately at his hat, the one he'd had when he first left on his journey, holding it at eye level. This did not make her laugh, but rather made her stop, and stare at him like he had just, well, confessed a crush to his hat.

He swallowed. "It's not what it looks like."

"It looks like you love your hat."

"I don't. Well, I do, but not like that. I mean, it's practice, because Brock isn't here and..."

She held out her hand, and, wordlessly, he handed over the hat and ducked his head in shame, mumbling, "You could be nice, you know. Tomorrow's Valentine's Day, you know."

"Valentine's Day is a pagan holiday that started when men stripped naked and whipped women in a fertility ritual," she said coolly, putting the hat on her head. "And tomorrow is the thirteenth, you idiot."

* * *

**CONFESSION DAY COUNTDOWN - TOMORROW**

"Brock, I don't think that it's going to work. I don't think she'd going to like me. She think I'm a freak who's in love with you and in love with my hat and she even took my stupid hat, Brock, she took my-"

"Why does she think you're in love with your hat?"

"Because I confessed to it."

"Arceus, Ash, don't you know how to close the damn door?"

"Sorry. I think I'll just get her roses and chocolates and leave her a note."

"You should get her yellow. She likes yellow."

"Yellow roses? They make those?"

Misty cleared her throat, and he spun to her her standing at the kitchen door, giving him a half smile. "Yellow roses mean friendship. You'll want to give eleven roses, not a dozen. Eleven roses mean that you really love them. If it's a friend you fell in love with, like May or Dawn or someone, get yellow roses with red tips. Lavender for love at first sight, dark red means they don't know how beautiful they are, red is I love you, and coral is desire."

"Oh," he said hollowly, because she wouldn't be helping him get another girl if she liked him.

"Those are all the ones I know off the top of my head. If you're going to just leave a note and run, get thirteen. That's a secret admirer." She smiled warmly, then shrugged to herself. "I don't think you should, though. I think any girl would be happy to have you, Ash. You're a wonderful guy."

Brock was chattering on the other end, and Ash hung up, ignoring him entirely. "Thanks, Mist." And when she turned to go, he continued, "Um, Misty? If you got roses, what color would you want?"

She shrugged. "They're not for me, so it doesn't matter. Happy Valentine's Day, Ash."

He frowned. "Won't I see you tomorrow?"

"You should be with that girl you like on Valentine's Day. We'll get together some other time."

And then she left.

* * *

**CONFESSION DAY COUNTDOWN - TODAY**

"Didn't I tell you to stay if you were going to confess?" Misty asked, looking at the bouquet on her doorstep.

He'd gotten five red ones, a yellow one with red tips, two dark red, two coral, and, on top, the eleventh was a deep blue. She had pictured up the blue one and twirled it in her fingers as she read the note, setting the chocolates aside for later, then called the boy who gave them to her - Ash Ketchum, the boy whose hat was still in her possession after he'd confessed his love to it.

"But you're going to say no, so, I figured that...you know, it'd be easier, if I gave those to you, and you just...you wouldn't have to talk to me."

"But I want to talk to you."

"Do you have to?"

"Well, considering you left a blue one, I think we have to."

She heard him moan. "Oh, Mew, I knew I got it wrong. It probably means that I love hats or something, doesn't it? It...the site said that it meant, you know, like, unattainable or something like that. That's why I got it, because I knew you didn't like me because you helped me with the girl even though you didn't know it was you and you think that I love my hat and-"

"You shouldn't have given me the blue one."

He whimpered. "What does it mean?"

"It means," she took a deep breath. "It means that I'm unattainable, you idiot."

"Aren't you?"

She laughed nervously, snapping the stem of the rose. "Not for you."


	41. Speak Up

Hey everyone! If you're somebody who reads Senior Year, the next chapter will probably be up before this Friday. If it's not, it'll probably be up by Tuesday. I'm having a busy weekend, so I probably won't get the chance to update then. :)

_How about doing a chapter with Brock has a girlfriend just because he deserves someone:) LuckyTigger_

_Steveaaml __reading minds_

* * *

**Speak Up**

Sabrina has sharp, piercing eyes that rip straight through a person. Standing in front of her, while her gaze shoots through them, that person suddenly feels stark naked, not just in body, but in mind, with their secrets laid out in front of them, stretching to her feet so she could pick and choose what looked important, so those terrifying eyes can sort out truth from fiction. And her mind, rational and distant, can sometimes sort out things that even their own minds weren't certain of.

Oh, and she does. Ever so frequently, she looks into other minds.

She takes an interest in Brock. He's not entirely sure why, and since he can't read her mind, he doesn't have anyway to find out. Somehow, the idea of asking her, of talking to her, makes him feel terrified. He's never been afraid to talk to girls, to talk to _anyone_, but she makes his mind reel with fear. He doubts she's trying to, and even when he remembers she turned him into a doll and tried to kill him more than once, he realizes that those aren't the reasons why. And it baffles him.

What's worse is that she doesn't mind he lack of speech. Whenever she gets the chance, and, somehow, she always finds a way to get the chance, she sits down and has entire conversations without him saying a word. She reads his mind, digging only into the uppermost levels of his consciousness, and retrieves what he _would _have said, if he had been able to speak. So, like an idiot, he sits there and stares at her while she smiled and talks and talks for him.

Then, one day, she falls silent and looks at him patiently, and at that very moment, he finally has the confidence to blurt, "Will you go out with me?"

"Of course." Her smile enveloped her face.

He blinked. "Didn't you know I was going to say that?"

She nodded, leaning forward. "Uh huh."

"So why didn't you…you know, just say it for me?"

"Because I knew you could speak for yourself."


	42. The Why Wedding

I'm glad you all like Brock and Sabrina, because it's back again!

_Interrupting a wedding Misty-chan_

* * *

**The Why Wedding**

Considering Brock had always been over the top romantic, and had hit on several girls daily, there were really only two options people considered for his love life. The first was that he would have a long line of flings, waking up next to a new girl each morning and ducking out before the girl could catch his name, or that he would finally find the girl he loved, be truly romantic, and have a fantastic extravagant wedding and live happily ever after, following the normal fairy tale guidelines and having two point five beautiful children.

What people had not been expecting was that he would be in his late twenties when he finally married. They did not expect that it would be with a girl about five years older than him, Sabrina, the leader of the Saffron City Gym, who was exceedingly not romantic and, to those who didn't pay much attention, not much more than a pretty face and psychic powers. They did not expect that the flower girl would have dark skin and long black hair and narrow black eyes, who was named Tanith, aged six and the daughter of the couple about to be married.

Brock was a father. He and Sabrina had birthed a child out of wedlock, and, despite this, had felt no rushed to be married. And, while Sabrina had smiled and never indicated hopes of marriage when the child came, Brock could only marvel at the little girl. She was a gorgeous exotic looking thing, with a voice that was soft and sweet and features that were round and babyish and so overwhelmingly cute whenever she smiled he had to sweep up his daughter and hold her close, loving her giggle as he spun her around the room and set her in bed.

In fact, the only downside about Tanith was finding a babysitter. Surprisingly, his two closest friends, Ash and Misty, both refused to watch the little girl after a certain age. Around three, Misty had stepped back and pushed the chore onto Ash. Once she was four, Ash stepped down as well, even going so far as to try and push the job back onto Misty, saying that she was better with kids and that he was very, very busy with his…hey, did you know there's a tournament starting in the Orange Islands?

He cornered Misty one day, snapping, "Why won't you watch her anymore?"

Misty laughed nervously, rubbing the back of her neck, and said, "Listen, Brock, Tanith is great. I love her. I mean, I really, really do. I love playing with her and I love coming to your house. The thing is, if Sabrina isn't there, I don't really want to be alone with her, you know what I mean?"

"No," he growled. "I don't. That's why I'm asking."

She groaned, rubbing her temples. "Brock, whenever I'm done watching Tanith, I can't remember what happened. My head feels foggy and, you know, a lot of times I look in the freezer for my ice cream and somebody ate it all. I'm pretty sure Tanith's psychic, and I'm not. I can't take care of her, and neither can Ash. We're just…we're not strong enough, Brock. We don't have the skills to do it, but it doesn't mean I love her any less."

And so began the quest to find out if Tanith had powers, which Sabrina answered with a very calm yes, and asked him to pass the comics. Brock was alarmed by that, but Sabrina continued calmly, saying that she didn't think her child had been using her powers, or that they had been developing, and that, when she got home from pre-school, they would have a nice, long talk about what was and what wasn't acceptable, and invest in a psychic babysitter, most likely an employee at her gym.

"But…but you don't think she's been messing with our heads, do you?"

Sabrina giggled. "She certainly can't get into mine, Brock. She's only a child after all."

Which was remarkably not comforting. But Sabrina told him that she always shielded his mind, and she taught him little tricks to try and take care of himself, and he never thought anything more of it, other than the occasional scolding when his daughter was angry and he felt his mind getting the slightest bit hazy and drifting towards buying a very expensive doll she would play with once and toss away. And, the year Tanith turned six, Brock decided now was a good time for marriage after watching Cinderella for the fifth time that day.

And so it was. Everyone was invited and the wedding was beautiful, and the cake was delicious, and the Sensational Sisters got drunk and spilled horribly embarrassing secrets about their younger sister, and Ash and Gary fought in the middle of the dance floor when Gary tried to look up Dawn's skirt, and May drank too much and passed out on Drew's shoulder so he had to take her home. And the whole day was all around lovely, except for one point in the ceremony.

And that was when Tanith let out a horrible wail during the vows, and raced up to her father sobbing, burying her face in his tuxedo and shouting that she was sorry, and that she had been very bad, and that she loved Daddy and Mommy and she just wanted them to be happy, that's all. She just really wanted them to be happy.

Brock lifted her up and stroked her hair back from her face, looking at the red splotches and realizing that his daughter would never been a beautiful crier, and soothed, "It's okay, Tanny. It's alright, hun. What's wrong? You don't want us to do this?"

"I…I…I _made _you!" she wailed. "I used my powers and I went in your head and I made you, because I wanted you to be happy and-"

The crowd began to chuckle, most noticeably the girl's mother, who gently took her from Brock and held her close. "Oh, Tanith. Honey, what you tried to do was very, very bad. And I'm glad you told me. But I already knew that. And your father and I had a long talk, and we thought it might be easiest for you if we got married. It's not because of you, Tanith. You didn't make Daddy do anything."

She looked up, eyes wide. "I didn't?"

"No," Sabrina said firmly, "but you could have. And that was very bad. But knowing what you did was wrong is good, and it means that we can start teaching you all about your powers, and you can learn when you shouldn't and should use them. And, for now, I'm going to need you to sit back down so the wedding can continue. Why don't you go with Uncle Ash, huh? Pikachu looks like he could use a playmate. Why don't you play with him?"

And so the wedding continued, and Brock kissed his wife, murmuring under the applause, "I don't think your dress was saltwater safe."

"We'll have to get it off then," she said with a smile, kissing him again.

And, with rapidly growing and wildly uncontrolled powers, a happy squeal and a rush up to her Uncle Tracey, Tanith exclaimed, "I think I'm going to have a brother!"


	43. Puberty

_Takeshi Jecht suggested an emo character and perky character to make them happy, and no Paul as an additional challenge. Challenge accepted, sir._

* * *

**Puberty**

Misty, like the rest of her family, hit puberty fairly early, getting her first period a few months after she turned twelve. Thankfully, they were in Pallet at the time, and when she woke up in the morning with a spot of blood leaking through her underwear and pajamas and sheets, and was near tears with anger and embarrassment, Mrs. Ketchum was there with advice and warm tea and a marathon of sappy romance movies.

"It's not fair," she had moaned sadly, sniffling. "The boys don't have to deal with this."

"They have their own problems, Misty," she had soothed, rubbing the girl's back and ignoring one of her favorite movies flashing by the screen. "It's not fun, I know, and there's nothing I can say to make it better. It's just one of those things, dear. You can't breathe underwater, you can't run like a rapidash, and you can't stop yourself from bleeding and hurting and feeling all strange every month. But you can make it all a little less."

The girl pulled away. "Does…does this mean I can't swim?"

Delia rubbed her forehead, but accepted that the girl's sisters were far away, and that she had no mother of her own, and calmly took her by the hand and lead her upstairs to explain how a tampon worked so she _could _swim during her time of the month. Misty was so grateful she flung her arms around the woman and hugged her tight, and Mrs. Ketchum could even feel a bit of a warm wetness of her shoulder that let her know the girl had started crying again.

And, unerringly cheerful, Mrs. Ketchum suggested, "Let's make a pie, huh?"

* * *

Also, cliches are running low, people. Suggest! Suggest like mad! If you think of them at some other time, PM me! I don't care. I NEED them. Desperately. So I steal them from you, just like I steal milk from the cafeteria.

...Don't tell.


	44. Pranking

_Tigress – Misty seducing Ash or vice versa_

_Steveaaml – possessed and made to kiss_

_Ayushi – Prank war AGM_

* * *

**Pranking**

It wasn't that big of a prank, not something to go crazy over. Gary had beaten Ash in a battle, and spent far too long teasing him about it, so Misty suggested getting him back. Whereas Ash wanted to sneak into his room and put his rival's hand in a glass of water, Misty suggested grabbing some spray hair dye and covering his car with words and pictures and squiggles until it was unrecognizable. But the paint was washable, and it was annoying at best, and there wasn't any permanent damage done.

Throwing all of Ash's underwear into the washing machine with a red shirt wasn't that big a deal. However, filling Misty's bag with spiders had been enough to nearly make the girl cry, and that hadn't been okay. They took a farther step, and paid a girl they knew Gary had been intimate with to tell him that he had herpes, and spent the rest few days snickering over his panic and his embarrassment at having to call every other girl he'd been with since and tell them that they just might have herpes.

Gary wasn't too fond of that, but the pranks surprisingly stopped there, as far as they thought. They were careful with what they ate and checked everything they wore and turned on the shower for a good ten minutes before actually getting in, just in case Gary had done something to the tap, and ultimately spent the next week or so going crazy imagining what the boy might do for revenge. What they didn't expect was for Gary to pull out something fairly big and fairly odd for a prank.

What Gary pulled was two identical amulets, both on a plain leather strip, that were a pale light green, though anything but transparent. They had both been carved and smoothed to form two globes, with small carvings to show where the continents ended and the oceans began. Both of them immediately put them on, because it wasn't Gary who sent them, or the mail, but Lily, Misty's sister, who didn't have a thing to do with the whole charade.

Except she did, because Gary had gone to the Waterflowers of Cerulean City and showed them the gems. He told them about finding them in a mysterious ruin, somewhere deep in the desert, where lush forests once were and a civilization that thrived on the spiritual and magic had prospered, and told them that these were stones crafted to do one thing, and one thing only – to open the heart by any means possible. It healed a wounded heart, it brought about opportunities and more motivation.

The response of the sisters was immediately, "We're in."

The sun was setting when Lily gave them the package, and it wasn't until later that night, while both had been fiddling with it all day, but reluctant to put it on, that they finally pushed the fear aside. The stones were constantly cool against their palms, no matter what they did to warm them, and the little globes constantly drew their attention. Smooth and round and soft, and seeming to call, making their hearts pound inside their chests with yearning to wear them.

Misty was the first to slip hers on. Very slowly, she ducked her head and put the leather cord around it, letting the stone settle on her chest, where it began to warm, until it matched her body perfectly, and the only way she could feel it there was to grab the pendant with her fingers. It was a tad strange, but at the same time, calming, and comforting. Well, at least until Ash followed her lead and put the necklace on as well.

Then, very suddenly, Misty was not in her home. She didn't know where she was, but it was not her home. She was Misty for sure, and her life was…it was different, she supposed, not that she bothered paying any attention to it. The only thing she could really focus on was Ash, because Ash had gotten a letter, that said he had been drafted. It was suddenly completely rational that he had been drafted, and she didn't think to wonder about how there had suddenly been a war or who it was against, or even to think that Ash would reject. Her mind was filled with the thought of him leaving.

Ash, on the other hand, was also not in Misty's home. He wasn't sure where he was either. He had a letter in his hands, and he was drafted, and he felt like someone had just handed him a letter sentencing him to death. The war was bloody and violent, and few men made it out alive, and this didn't seem suspicious or strange at all. It seemed like something that was inevitable, and, somehow, it didn't matter, because his mind was filled with the thought that he would soon be leaving her.

That meant a show.

And, oh, did the watching sisters and Gary prepare themselves for a show.

The scene that resulted was the most beautiful piece of blackmail ever seen. The two wasted almost no time tapdancing around the fact that they were, in Ash's words, "amazingly, completely, I can't back out of this in love", followed by Misty's inspirational, "I've been in love with you always. Since the moment I met you, I started loving you, and it's just grown every day since then. Whenever you were away, it felt like my heart was breaking, and I wanted to dance whenever you came back."

These confessions resulted in, "I will never be this happy again" and "I told them they'd pay for what they did to my baby" from the stairwell, one from an especially giddy sister and one from a boy who still mourned the defacing of his car, despite the fact that, once again, it was completely reversible. But nothing could have prepared them for the best part, which made Gary groan at the thought that the others might get something good out of this prank, and made the sisters squeal with unabashed glee.

Because Misty suddenly pushed Ash flat onto the couch and shoved her mouth onto his in a remarkably clumsy way. It wasn't exactly elegant, but the face smashing seemed to be enjoyable enough that Ash immediately held her close and smashed his face to hers, and at some point they seemed to return to themselves, and jumped apart with horrified screams, sending everyone but the two involved into a delightful fit of hysterics, and leaving the pendants on the floor.

Gary calmly sauntered over, picked them up, and decided, "I win."


	45. Mourning

_Kelley miley pregnancy_

_Misty-chan visiting someone's grave after death_

* * *

**Mourning**

Once a year, they went to the temple dedicated to Jinzo. Ash and his mother, they went, and when he was small, he never quite understood. He knew that they had a picnic and they got to play with the strange stone doll, and that sometimes his mother would cry, and he had to comfort her, which he did frequently. He kissed the tears off her face and he would pick up the stone baby and tell her, "The baby is smiling, Mom! Look, the baby is happy too!"

And she would smile and laugh a little and wipe at her tears.

They would dress the stone baby in baby clothes, not Ash's old baby clothes, but new ones, fresh ones every time, with little booties and onesies, sometimes pink, sometimes blue, though usually yellow, as far as Ash could remember. Then, they took water and ran it over the child. Ash had understood this least of all. Dressing up the baby was fun, but the stone baby couldn't drink, or swim, or play in the water, so what was the point of wasting the fresh bottled water on the stone when he had to drink from the water fountain?

At eight, he asked her.

"Mom, why are we doing this?"

She paused in pouring the water, and held Ash close, setting the stone child in the grass and kissing the living one on the temple, then whispering, "There is a river that separates life and death, much too far to swim across. The very young need help and need to be guided across to the land of the dead. See, they're helpless, and, because of this, when they die, they're stranded on the banks of this river. By tending to the stone babies, we tend to their spirits. We quench their thirst until they can be taken to the land on the dead."

He frowned. "Then why don't we come every day?"

"We come on this day, because this is the year my baby died."

"But I'm right here."

She smiled, and kissed him again. "You are, but, before you, I had another baby inside me. I was scared to have it, because I was very young, and I didn't have someone to help me raise the baby, not like your father helps when he can now. So I went to a special doctor, and he took the baby out of me before it was born. I feel very guilty about it, and I hope that I can help that baby now, even after my terrible mistake."

Ash did not entirely understand, but he held his mother tight as she cried.

* * *

This is an actual ritual in Japan, that thousands of women do. They do it for children who are stillborn, aborted, or even died before they passed certain rites of Japanese Buddhism. It's a special kind, which had only gotten more complicated over the year, considering these children are now considered to have souls, and, in earlier history, they weren't.

I haven't seen much on abortion, and when I do, it usually winds up in the mother's suicide, but I've never seen this Japanese form of grief in a story before. I think it's beautiful, honestly, and I wish more people knew about it. Rather than making the woman who had the abortion feel evil and helpless, it gives them hope that, even if they did make a mistake, maybe they can make up for it, even if it's just something as simple as this.

I'd recommend researching it.

Also, I'm doing Nation Novel Writing Month next month, so updates might slow.


	46. Amnesia

_Steveaaml – amnesia, N days to live, Tracey/Brock/Pikachu matchmaking_

_Tigress – Ash proposing to Misty_

* * *

**Amnesia**

Amnesia was fairly common in the pokémon world. Pokémon attacks would often miss, and with a pokémon like slowpoke having such a slow reaction. One could step on its tail, completely forget about the situation, and then be on a receiving side of an confusion attack, which had a varied affect on whoever it hit. Some would be baffled, some would faint, and some, like Ash Ketchum, would suffer a heavy dose of amnesia for about a week.

This was a free for all for everyone. Although the aim was never to hurt him, of course, there was a never ending stream of pranks played on the poor boy. He would remember the many pranks, once the amnesia wore off, which usually ended with him turning a bright red and refusing to say anything other than a low mutter of insults to his friends for a couple days before he had gotten over it. It had happened seven times since Ash had started his pokémon journey, and he had never come out of it okay.

The first one wasn't very good, it took a little while for Brock and Misty to finally understand what was happening. Brock was the first to see the potential of the situation, surprisingly, and took the boy aside for a while. Late that night of his first amnesia, Brock sat Ash down and had a long, calm talk about how Ash and Misty were a couple, and very much in love, and Brock thought that tomorrow would be the perfect way to propose. Ash had nodded along, clearly not understanding what was going on, and had eventually agreed to propose to Misty on the following morning.

The next morning, Ash had fashioned a ring out of a dandelion, which was, as dandelion rings often do, slowly wilting away. Ash was unaware of this, and got down on one knee, pushing the ring into Misty's hands, and then fumbled around in his pocket for a piece of paper. Misty, meanwhile, stood there, completely perplexed, and too surprised to even ask him what he was doing. Instead, she stared at the marred dandelion and wondered what it could be, because, although it did have the slight appearance of the ring, it was far too small for any human finger.

"Dear Misty," he said, which was a very strange way to start a proposal, but he had never done this before. "We have been traveling together for seven years." They had been traveling together for about six months. "Over this time, I have fallen madly in love with you, as you know, because we have been dating for five years. You are good at girlfriend things, like kissing and cooking and being nice. I think you would also be good at wife stuff. What I am asking is that I would like you to be my wife please."

There was a good five minutes of horrified silence. There were many reasons for this. The first was the insinuation that her and Ash were dating, the second that he was in love with her, the third that time had seemed to slip by very rapidly, and the final being the baffling, terrible sentence, "What I am asking is that I would like you to be my wife please." Strangely, it was the last reason that she decided needed a rebuttal.

"What I am asking," she said slowly, "is that I would like you to be my wife please."

Ash nodded very seriously.

"What _I am asking_," she said, even more slowly, pronouncing each word with a heavy emphasis, "is that I would like you _to be my wife please_?"

"Brock said that today was the anniversary of when we starting dating, and that it would be a good idea to propose today," Ash explained cheerfully. "He told me all about how we were dating and stuff, and he wanted to help me write the proposal, but he said that it might be more romantic if I did it myself so I decided to try and do it myself. So all these words came straight from the heart, Misty! I don't know when we should have the wedding though."

Although it wasn't very fair, Misty was so shocked by that revelation that she reached out her hand and slapped Ash incredibly hard across the face. She then found the hysterically laughing Brock, and proceeded to beat at him with her fists, shrieking all the while, "He's in a vulnerable state! He got hit with an attack and you made him _propose_? What's wrong with you, Brock? Really, can you tell me what's _wrong _with you?" then gave him a mighty shove.

Brock wiped tears from his eyes, looking at her bright red face, and sighed. "Listen, Misty, it's just a prank. Besides, you've got Ash who doesn't remember anything. Don't tell me there's anything you don't want to try. I know you've got to have something up your sleeve."

She looked at Ash for a moment, a look of prankster longing on her face, before rapidly shaking her head. "No! It's wrong, Brock. We can't just…just mess with him because he's got amnesia. That's like…I don't know, making fun of a blind guy. You can't make fun of him because he can't help it."

"Misty," he said dramatically, putting his hands on either shoulder and squeezing. "This chance may never come around again. Never again. Could you live with yourself, knowing that you let this opportunity slip you by, quite possibly the holy grail of all pranking opportunities? I think even Ash would be disappointed if you didn't prank him, and prank him hard. With your devious mind, Misty, we could make this all worth it."

"You're creeping me out a little," she said, wrinkling her nose and shrugging him off. "If you promise to quit talking like that I'll think of something good."

"Deal."

So Misty thought for a good long time, about three hours, and discussed her plan with Brock, who was delighted by it. So she took Ash by the hand, sat him by the firelight, and began her very dramatic, very solemn speech about how Ash's amnesia was not the result of a pokémon attack, but the result of a disease. A disease that left him with only twenty four hours to live, and that they would have to do everything Ash ever wanted by the next day.

"Sadly, there's a horrible disease inside you that's slowly eating your brain. It's turning you into a zombie, Ash. Unfortunately, soon you'll start to hunger for human flesh, and we're going to have to kill you. But we want to remember you as you are right now, as Ash. To do that, we need you to tell us absolutely everything. Every good memory, every bad memory, every embarrassing secret, so we can really know who Ash Ketchum is. We hope that, maybe, if we can keep you clinging onto those memories, we can hold off the transformation."

Ash's eyes were wide the whole time, and he asked. "Really?"

Misty looked at Brock for a moment, who seemed to be about to break, and said, "It's so serious, that Brock might start crying soon."

With that, he let the dam on his laughter break, and tried to hide it as crying. He did a fairly terrible job of it, but Ash was still struck by the idea that he was slowly turning into a member of the undead. There had been a deal made that if Ash started crying, they would call the prank off immediately. However, Ash did not cry. He simply nodded in agreement, accepting his fate, and began to reveal every little bit of his past.

For Misty, the best part was that Brock had to leave, because he couldn't contain his laughter, while Misty sat, nodding sympathetically, listening to every little piece of blackmail information and writing it down. She said it was to remind him. Ash talked and talked and talked, and Misty kept writing, until Ash started yawning and asked if they could continue in the morning. A little jolt of shock went through her at losing this opportunity, and she made up more of a lie.

"You can't sleep before you've told me everything, Ash!" she cried. "The virus will spread even faster then. If you tell me everything, you'll have enough of your humanity that you'll make it through the night! Please, Ash, you have to keep going. You have to hold on. You have to fight this. I know you can if you try, Ash, I know you can! You just have to tell me absolutely everything about your past. It's the only way you'll be truly safe."

As Ash had never been the brightest bulb in the pack, and was currently suffering from several mental damage, it never crossed his mind to question this ridiculous prospect, and continued until Misty had filled up a good ten pages in her notebook of Ash's past, mostly including his failures which were, more often than not, unbelievably embarrassing. When he fell asleep, she stared, completely awestruck at her notebook, realizing she had pulled the greatest prank she could ever hope to play.

Brock came back, asking about the notebook, and Misty solemnly shook her head. "No way. My prank, my notebook. How much longer do you think that his amnesia is going to last?" She winced. "Oh, gees, do you think he's going to remember any of this? He won't, right?"

"Of course not," Brock snorted.

Ash did remember, of course, which was incorporated into future prank plans, especially after he ripped the notebook from Misty's surprisingly loose hands, and hurled it into the fire, then went off to sulk for awhile, as he usually did when he had lost anything, be it a pokémon battle or the bad side of a prank, and Brock and Misty watched the fire crackle over the notebook.

"It would be wrong to do it again, right?" Misty asked.

"It would. It was wrong to do it this time."

There was a long pause. "We're going to do it again, right?"

"Of course!"


	47. Leave Me

Steeveaaml - _post-apocolyptic world where TR takes over, our heroes are freedom fighters_

_Papoteer – go on without me_

* * *

**Leave Me**

One gunshot, one scream.

Male. A bit rough. A bit high. Quieted down quickly, but not abruptly. Not a kill shot for certain.

I grab the gun on my way out. It's a rifle, I know that, but that's all I know. I don't know the make or the caliber, just that it's brown and wooden and study against my hands. My father taught me how to shoot, but I'll admit I'm not that great. I can aim, but it jumps every time I fire, flings out of my hand. If I manage to hold it, usually by pushing it into my shoulder and balancing it on a window sill or a chair, it makes my shoulder throb and makes it a bit hard to catch my breath.

But, when I throw open the window and point the gun out it and push my body out and scream, most people see the gun and the scope and turn around quick as they can. My sisters cook and clean and work, and I train pokémon and I'm the defense for the house. I'm loud, and my hair is red enough that it catches people's eye pretty quick, and my sisters say that I've got a look that's so cold it could put out a charmander's flame.

"You're hunting on my property!"

It's two Rockets. A double male group, which is fairly weird, since they tend to pair up male-female. It got even weirder, because they don't have pokémon on their belts. They have hand guns. Rockets took over with pokémon, overpowering the League. Not that the change wasn't entirely welcome, but, as far as I can tell, we're in something that's called a reign of terror. It's part of the revolution timeline. You have people getting angrier and angrier, then the take over, and then, since the radicals take over, there's…a radical kind of time.

The first man immediately swings up his handgun, and I pull back inside my house, taking better aim and glaring through the scope. His partner immediately slammed the gun out of his hand, and it hit the forest floor as he stepped forward, grinning.

"Hey, miss, we're not hunting on your-"

"I heard a gun!" I say. "I heard a shot, and my family doesn't tolerate any kind of hunting on our grounds. My parents made deals with Team Rocket, for keeping our land safe we gave you information for the take over. You have no right to stand on these lands. If your boss saw this, he'd be damn pissed."

"We're after a fugitive," he continues, still smiling, hands still in the air. "We're not hunting anything for eating. We won't step in your garden, miss. We've just got a kid on the run and we want to bring him to justice."

I keep my gun steady, and let my finger rest on the trigger, staring at his face through the scope. "So, you're _hunting _a fugitive."

Now his smile falters. "He's a danger, miss. You don't want him on-"

"My father is dead, and he had some very specific wishes. One of them was to have no hunting of any kind on his land. There's no hunting, no killing. Everyone who lives in this house knows to use a gun and only uses it for protection. We don't eat the animals who live here. When I said no hunting on my land, I meant it, and I don't know why you'd think that human hunting would be exempt from that."

His partner shouts up, stomping. "Listen up, little missy, you're not going to shoot us so why don't you-?"

I fire a warning shot into the dirt, flinging up chunks and the man scrambling away, swearing. My shoulder ached, the gun jumped, but I held onto it and aimed it again. "I'll do anything it takes to defend my parents' last wishes. Even if it means having blood on my hands, I'll do it. You can wait for your fugitive on the other side of the property, when he comes out he's all yours. I just don't want _hunting on my land._"

The first man pushes back his partner. "Alright, miss. We'll go around if we can get your word that you find the boy, you bring him to us."

For a moment, I think about asking him what the boy's crime is, but instead call down, "Fine with me. Just get off my land."

And, after a few minutes have ticked by, I send a marill out to search the grounds, make sure they've left. She comes back safe and sound, and I head out, taking the gun with me and keeping marill by my side. She leads me through the woods, and it isn't long before I'm stumbling onto a boy, a Pikachu sleeping by his head and him barely conscious due to a bullet through his thigh. I step closer, and the Pikachu wakes, sparking, glaring, before marill steps forward to explain.

I kneel by him, and shake his shoulder until his eyes open.

"If you hold on to me, I can carry you back to my house. It's going to hurt like crazy, but I've got medicine there, and we can sneak in a nurse in no time." I pause. "Assuming you're here because the Pikachu is yours and you didn't qualify for a license."

His voice creaks. "I didn't qualify for training. I failed the te-"

"Quiet, that's all I need to know." I look at the pokémon. "If you two can carry the gun, together, I can take him back to my house. It's going to hurt him, but it's the only way he stands a chance, understand?"

They went to gather the gun, and I lifted the boy in my arms, doing my best to tune out his cries, but he grabs at my shirt, eyes round and wide, and pants up at me, "Please, just…just leave me. It hurts and I…if you'll just take care of pikach-"

"I said quiet," I say firmly, legs beginning to ache from his extra weight. "You're going to be fine. You're going to get out of this. It's going to hurt, and then it's going to get better."

He starts crying softly, and he doesn't shut up. "I think my mom's dead. I think they killed my mom. She was sending me out, and she said to keep running, but I heard a shot and I think they killed her, and I've been running for days and I-"

I stop and glare down at him. "My parents are dead. _Lots _of people are dead. And you may blame Team Rocket for it, or you may blame the League for it, but none of that matters right now. This is a time of change. We're going to fix you up, and we're going to fix everything we can fix, and then we'll get you something to start living for."

When I start, he shouts out again as his legs jostles, voice breaking. "Just leave me behind, please!"

It's three minutes until he passes out, and ten until we're home.

It's three days before he stops telling me to let him die.


	48. Confession at a Rain Soaked Bus Stop

Peonelopie4 – Ash learns to kiss

dinobot You haven't, by any chance, done a confession at a rain soaked bus stop? Ya know, just as Misty is about to board, ready to walk out of Ash's life forever. Gigantic cliche, yes, but I can't help but love those type of moments.

So do I, dinobot. *dreamy sigh* So do I.

* * *

**Confession at a Rain Soaked Bus Stop**

"Don't!"

It rains a lot in Cerulean. It's raining now. It's not drizzling, it's not pouring, it's _dumping_. The water seems to comes down in sheets, and as Misty runs through it, swearing and cursing in her head, feet slamming onto the ground, surefooted despite the slickness of the ground. With every step water flings up onto her pajama pants. From her knees down, it looks as if she's just stepped out of a lake. From there up it looks like she crawled out of a lake a few minutes before. Her hair is dark and stuck to her face, flat and dull and endlessly dripping. Her eyes are red rimmed. Her face is soaked.

Ash blinks, pausing as he steps on the bus, completely dry under the little roof, a dripping umbrella by his side. Pikachu has already climbed on the bus, and seeing Ash's hesitation, he pauses, and races back to his shoulder. Ash stares at her as she doubles over, dripping and darkening a spot of cement that was previously dry, and pants.

"Don't _what?_"

"Don't kiss her," she says. She stands, and he can see her Adam's apple bob as she swallows. "Not...not the way I told you to. With the...oh, Moltres, Ash, don't kiss her like I said. You'll ruin it."

He takes another step off the bus, and the driver shouts over the rain, "I've got a schedule, kid!"

"You won't make it in the rain, anyway!" Misty snaps. "Wait a minute, I just have to make sure I don't screw this up."

"Screw what up?"

"The girl you like! The girl you want to kiss! The one you're trying to impress." She doubles over again, and he hears her pant, but bets she's acting because she always tries to hide her face when she's guilty. "If she's managed to win your affections over then...then, Ash, she's got to deserve you. You're the densest guy on the planet, and if she managed to make you feel something..."

He stares at her. "What are you talking about?"

"When I taught you how to kiss!" she shouts it, looking at the ground, refusing to straighten. "I lied. Don't use that much tongue and don't lick around the mouth and don't bite the girls chin or any of that...stupid stuff I told you. Do what you started with. You were good the first time you tried. You were great."

"What are you...why would you do that?"

She screams her words now, over the rain and the bus motor and over her little shred of pride that begs her not to: "I was jealous! I was jealous that you wanted me to teach you to kiss for some other girl! And I was embarrassed because you came to me, and I've never actually _kissed _a guy before! So I lied! I lied about giving you lessons and I lied about what I said in those lessons and I lied when I said you looked fatter when you first showed up because you _don't_! you look better! And you have abs and a chest and I even kind of like your butt!"

He looks over his shoulder at his butt, then back at her, then at the bus driver.

"You coming or not, kid?"

He looks back at the girl, doubled over, and though it's hard to hear over the rain and the bus motor and his trembling cowardice that demands he race onto the bus without another word, he can hear her cry. she's sobbing. Deep, shoulder shaking sobs, and he shakes his head. The bus door closes, and the bus drives away, and Ash walks forward to wrap his arms tight around her, letting her cry into his chest and soak him through to the bone. It's five in the morning, and there won't be another bus until that afternoon, but this girl crying in his arms is more important.

Ash holds the back of her head, and grins. "I, uh...I just wanted an excuse to kiss you, Mist."


	49. Beautiful Things

_Spring Dragonfly Hurt/comfort as a romance_

Kelly Miley Penguinshipping

* * *

**Beautiful Things**

"I've never seen someone look so down after winning a contest."

Dawn giggled and slid in the bleachers net to Kenny. It was her forth contest after leaving Brock and Ash, and this time she had placed third. Not bad, and she was getting into a good rhythm. After all, she had been choosing what cities to go to based only on contests, and finding a few challenging contests at that. She'd bumped into Zoey a few times, and the other girl had extended an invitation to travel, which Dawn declined politely as she could. Today, however, was her first time bumping into Kenny. She had lost to him, yet he was the one frowning.

"Hey, Dawn," he mumbled.

She blinked. "Dawn?"

"That's your name."

"But you call me Dee Dee."

"That name was stupid." He twisted a great ball in his hands, which she noticed were a bit rougher and bigger than the last time she had seen him. She shook it off and tried to focus on the great ball, and from the seals, she recognized it as a milotic, the one he used to win against her that day. He still had it full size, his fingers sliding over the bumps and grooves on the ball and from the seals, refusing to look up at her. "You didn't like it, so I'm not going to keep bothering you about it."

She put a friendly hand on his should, and he shrugged it off. "Kenny, what's wrong? You won. It's not like you cheated or anything to win, right? You played by the rules."

"Playing by the rules doesn't mean I did the right thing."

"Kenny, what are you-?"

He held up the ball, almost hitting her in the face with it. "This is my very first contest with Astrid. My miltoic Astrid. I did amazing, huh? For our first contest? she handled like a pro, didn't she? best pokemon I've ever had."

Dawn smiled nervously, confused at the edge in his voice. "Kenny, you were amazing. I don't think you ever did that well before, not even with Empoleon!"

His breath caught, then a groan slid through his lips, making Dawn's pulse speed up in worry.

"Kenny?"

"How do you think I got her?"

"Oh, Arceus, Kenny!" Her eyes grew wide, and she grabbed his arm. "You didn't st-"

"I traded." His hands were shaking around the ball, his arm trembling roughly under her hand. She noticed that his arm was thicker, she felt muscles under the skin, and she bit her lip to keep focused on _him, _not on parts of him. "To some trainer I didn't know. She...she just talked and talked and talked and the next thing I knew I had a milotic in my hands and she was gone. She took Empoleon with her. She's going to fight in Hoenn."

Dawn rubbed his back slowly, again pushing thoughts of how he back had broadened and how the muscles felt under her fingers aside. "Oh, Kenny. I know trades are hard, but if you and Empoleon are happy, that's what matters, isn't it? Sometimes you have to let o to make sure your friends are happy."

"I know that."

She nodded sympathetically. "But it still hurts, huh?"

"Dawn, I did better with a Astrid than with Empoleon. My starter." Hs eyes met hers, and she felt a strange but pleasant tingle go down her spine, despite the seriousness of the situation. "What does that say about me as a coordinator? Dawn...I can't raise pokemon."

"That's not true," she said sharply. "Kenny, you're a great coordinator."

"Then explain why I did better with Astrid."

She shrugged, her eyes moving away from his. "Milotic always have an advantage. They're beautiful."

"There's another one, beautiful, when my category is usually tough. I managed to win even though I was being judged in a way I'd never been judged before."

"Kenny, please."

"Here, Dawn." He pushed the great ball into her hands and smiled bitterly. "Two beautiful things I'm good enough for. You'll be happy toether."

"Kenny, wait!"

But he was gone, running down the bleachers and through the hallway and out. Long, quick strides, not clumsy or awkward but...strong. No note left on the bleachers, no barely there confession that left her wondering how he really felt. Just a boy that she had rejected, somehow, though she didn't really remember doing it, who was still pining after her. She clutched the great ball in her hands, shaking. Her head fell to her knees, and she felt tears, not falling, but stinging at the corner of her eyes, and didn't wonder - not for a single instant - why she was crying.

The answer was simple.

She kissed the great ball softly and whispered against it: "I liked it when you called me Dee Dee."

* * *

KENNY DESERVES NOTHING BUT MISERY.

...I don't really feel that way, but the show's writers seem to think so.

This is how I feel that note went:

"Hey, Kenny. What's up? You know how you beat Ash in that match? Yeah, that weird testosterone fight for my love? (By the way, you should know that Ash didn't really know that he was "fighting for my love", he just gets excited when he hears the word "battle") Uh, that was really cool. I mean, you were hot and all when you won but...I have, like, stuff to do? Like washing my hair...so, uh, I guess I can't date I MEAN TRAVEL with you. I hope you enjoy my weird passive aggressive note!"

What the hell, Dawn? Really. What the hell?


	50. How Strange

_Steveaaml - pokemorphs_

_Copeliakitty - turning into a human from pokémon and have to adjust_

I absolutely adore this one. I just...oh, so much fun to write, to think about. It was inspired by a short story called "Blood Music" by Greg Bear, which I recommend. Honestly, this and that short story have nearly nothing in common, except for the fact that they both deal with the complex idea of intelligence, and what separates something like a bacteria or an ant from a human.

I hope you enjoy.

* * *

**How Strange**

_What the hell is it?_

_I don't know. How should I know?_

_You found it._

_So?_

_So...you should know what it is! What the hell is it?_

It looks like a growlithe. It lives in a cage now, a big cage made of rock and glass on one side for viewing, with trees and grass and a little pool of water for it to drink from. It makes a nest by burning, setting fire to a patch of grass, spinning in circles, stomping it so it doesn't spread to the rest of its home. Its bed is warm when it does that, when it sets it on fire. It is good. It likes warmth. It wants more space, room to run. It wishes to hunt, because it is hungry. It wishes for its friends, for it is lonely. It once lived in a large pack. Now it lives alone.

_We need to feed it._

_What does it eat?_

_It looks like a growlithe._

_Most of the time._

_Well, yes. Though, even in its...its other form, the fact remains that it should be able to eat raw meat. It must have lived off of it in the wild._

_Humans can't eat raw meat._

_We can. You have to build up resistance from birth. Get the right bacteria in your system._

_And this thing has it?_

_Should have it. We have to chance it. We can't let it die._

_Yeah, sure. You want that scientific glory, huh, Spencer? Can't just let it go back to wherever it came from?_

_No! I don't care about-_

_Then why? Why don't you let it-_

_Because what if it's _sentient, _Joanne? What if it can think?_

A mareep is released into its environment. It is confused, because it has never hunted without its pack before. It was not Pack Leader. It has never killed before. It had dragged down prey, but Leader killed it. Leader grabbed the throat. Leader held until the breath no longer came. This is how Leader kills. Leader braces against the electricity that mareep releases. Leader rips open the skin to eat first. What does it do with no leader? Is it Leader? Are the things that watch and send in food Leader? Should it wait for those Leaders to kill it? Will it be punished for killing?

It has been punished before, so, cautiously, it goes to the mareep. The mareep is not startled. The mareep does not run. It growls at the mareep. The mareep looks back, chewing on grass. The eyes are wide and stupid. They are not stupid like the mareep at home. This mareep is dumber than that. This mareep does not protest as jaws come softly around the throat. The mareep does not panic until the jaws snap closed, and blood spills hot. There is the shock of electricity in its mouth and in its body, and it holds until the mareep is still.

It abandons the body and looks at rocks, changing to the shape that is best for looking at rocks.

_It turned human. Spencer! Spencer, it turned! What's it doing, Spencer? Oh, hell, what if it talks, Spencer? What are we-?_

_It's looking for tools._

_Wh-what?_

_It's making a knife with the stones in there. I think...I think its sentient, Joanne._

_Other creatures use tools._

_I don't know what the hell it is Joanne. I don't. But you know as well as I do that this thing is human._

_Lots of pokemon can _look_ human, Spencer. That does-_

_Look at how it cuts away the wool, Joanne. Its adding it to its nest, so it's warmer._

_We could be famous for this._

_I don't want to be famous for this._

The Leaders come in, and it is worried that it is about to be punished. It is not. It is embraced, and they make noises in its ear. They cry. They sob. They hold it tight and rock, and, slowly, it embraces them and rubs their back, to comfort them. For some reason, this makes them cry harder. It makes soothing sounds and kisses their cheeks, again and again. They do not stop their weeping. It changes into its other form, the one for hunting, and does its best to act playful. It hopes they will change, that they can play. They do not change.

It is taken back to its home, it is released, it goes back to its pack.

"Where have you been, Tanick?"

"I found funny creatures who look like us but don't change."

"They only hunt?"

"They only find stones."

"How strange."

_Did we do right?_

_We did wrong. We fixed it. That's what matters._

_Someone else will find them. They won't live alone forever._

_Let them be happy while they still can. Let them change back and forth. Maybe, one of these days, they'll stick to their human form. Maybe they'll have a language, be a tribe. Maybe we won't be so rough when we find them then._

_I still can't believe they change._

_I can't believe they're sentient._

_How strange._


	51. Ash Williams

_Steveaaml – Ash talking to Misty's sisters about liking/asking out/ proposing to Misty, Misty showing up somewhere to perform with her sisters, drunk_

__Daisy, you magnificent drunk, you. With this chapter, you have appeared twice in this collection, and I swear you shall return again!

* * *

**Ash Williams**

"So, are you cool with marrying Misty?"

"_What?_"

Did you know Daisy Williams, Misty's oldest sister, she's got the same smirk as Misty? Same eyes too. The eyes don't really matter, though, because it's her stupid smirk. I'm sitting there, looking at Daisy drink her billionth beer because Misty told me to watch her, because Misty had to go make sure all the costumes were set for tomorrow, because her and her sisters are touring because Misty has somehow become "The Gyaraos Girl". That's actually kind of cool. She's become this kind of gyarados specialist. She was so afraid before, and now she works with them all the time. They're really hard to work with, and she works with the most stubborn of them, and her sisters help out and everything and they model but, really, it's mostly all about her this time and-

Sorry. I mean I really hate that stupid smirk. Misty has it. Daisy has it. And whenever I see it something really bad is going to happen.

"Like, okay," she slammed her hand down on my thigh and leaned close. "So, like, if you like like Misty, that's totally cool! You seem super nice. She talked about you a lot. And, like, I mean, you're cute. I'd make out with you if Misty hadn't called dibs. Except she didn't really call dibs. She just did it in her mind because you two secretly want to do each other but you can't because you're shy or some crap."

I swallow. "Please don't kiss me."

"I won't," she says, very seriously. "I told you. She called dibs. But we need to talk about the name thing."

"What name thing?"

"Are you ready to be Ash Williams?"

I stare for few moments, trying to figure out how marriage works. I'm pretty sure that the girl usually takes the guy's name, unless she doesn't want to. Or maybe just the kids take the guy's name. I don't really know. I never really cared. Did Mom have a different name before Dad? Oh, Arceus, did Mom marry Dad? I've never asked. I've _never _asked? How have I never asked? She's my mom! I'm the worst son in the world! I should call my mom. No, I need to go see her. And we'll talk. And I'l even do her ridiculous chores and not even-

"Hey, dumbass, you in there?" Daisy snaps.

I blink, looking back at her very drunk face. "Why would I be Ash Williams?"

"Okay, maybe not you, but your kids, right?" Daisy puts the beer dangerously close to the edge of the table, then holds both hands at it for a moment, as if willing it to stay put, before using those same hands to cup around my ear. "Because, like, gym leaders are supposed to continue the line, even if it's a girl. So the kids, right, they have to be Williams."

"Or?"

"Or the world...the world _explodes!_" She bursts out laughing and falls into my lap, and I look everywhere but her because she's really weird. And then she starts tapping my face, my cheeks, my nose, my chin, and I try to swipe her hand away. "Ash, listen, listen. _Listen, _mewdammit, this is important, because it's really important."

I sigh, looking down at her, hoping Misty will come back soon. "What?"

"Thank you for helping with the show. You didn't have to come."

"I was already coming to this city." I shrug. "Misty just invited me."

"Thanks for helping, though." She smiles dreamily. "You helping is one of the reasons I'd be okay with you being with my sister. Romantically. And horizontally."

"Um, thank you?" Really, it's the only thing I can respond to at this point. Because, apparently, I'm going to marry Misty and be Ash Williams and we're going to have kids and this strange, drunk woman who I'm really hoping isn't going to throw up in my lap is going to be my sister-in-law.

Then, very dramatically, my I-don't-have-a-choice-I-guess-sister-in-law declares, "The clitoris is essential to a happy marriage."

Instantly, I have an unconscious Daisy in my lap.

And I swear she's smirking in her sleep.


	52. Couples' Tournament

Steveaaml: Couples' tournament

lyrcal harmonies: shut up kiss

* * *

**Couples' Tournament**

The woman behind the desk had long, flowing brown hair, and a smile that was warm and welcoming and sweet, but when she asked, "So, I see you two are interested in joining our tournament?" Ash couldn't help but feel that it didn't matter how nice she was, he was going to hate her because of what _he _was doing. And _how _he hated what he was doing, with a burning hatred that really should have been a burning passion of love in order to compete in the couple's tournament currently being held in Goldenrod City.

Gary, however, smiled back at the woman, holding Ash's hand, who was blushing and glaring at the ground. This was because the two of them were entering a tournament meant for lovers, most of which competed with things like nidoran male and female, or a pair of luvdisc, or many others. The prize was a substantial amount of money, most likely meant to pay for a wedding. Gary and Ash were, in fact, not looking to get married. Or in a relationship. Or gay. Well, at least, Ash wasn't. Gary always had a habit and kissing anything that moved, and Ash was slightly nervous that Gary might try and make a move on him. This was not because Gary was a boy, because ash had been hit on by several boys before. It was because he hated Gary. If there was anyone in the world he would want to kiss less than Gary...well, there wasn't. Gary was at the top of the list. He beat out Giovanni is kissing detestability.

"We're so happy to join this tournament. We've been together for four years, and we had a rough spot but..." Gary squeezed Ash's hand lovingly. "I think this could really help us through it, and, hopefully, with the money, we'll even be able to achieve our dream. Adopting a little girl all of our own."

It was at this point Ash decided to kill Gary the second they were alone.

The woman oohed and ahed in delight. "Oh, that's _so _wonderful! You know, there are some people, even here in Goldenrod, who absolutely hate the idea of two men or two women together, but most of us are open minded. One of my best friends was raised by two men, and she's the nicest person in the whole world, and they loved her so much! They spoiled her rotten and...oh! This is just too cute!" She laughed and turned back to her computer giddily. "Alright, what pokemon are you two planning on using?"

"Pikachu and Umbreon," Ash said flatly, lowering his voice in an attempt to sound more manly.

Gary discreetly stepped on his foot.

"Oh. Pikachu and Umbreon? That's...that's different," she said slowly, turning back to her computer. "They're cute, of course, but I'd never think of pairing them up. But, I suppose you two know your pokemon best. Though, I will suggest that you use pokemon more...suited, for double battling? Pokemon that compliment each other with their moves, or cover one another's weaknesses? Looking at this pair as a base, it doesn't seem very good. And, well, it would be so nice if you two actually won and were able to adopt."

Now, Ash started feeling guilty, and opened his mouth to protest.

It was at that moment Gary spun him around and kissed him deeply, caressing the back of his neck and pushing his tongue into Ash's mouth and all in all giving Ash a rather intense kiss that he hadn't experienced from a girl in quite a long while, and had certainly never experienced from another boy, and aside from a raging hatred at Gary, the only thing Ash could really think about was the fact that Gary was doing something really weird but kind of cool with his tongue, and Ash wondered if girls liked that kind of thing.

Gary beamed at the woman while Ash stood very still, trying not to let his disgust show lest Gary kiss him once more.

"Don't worry, ma'am. We'll be fine." He looked at Ash and smirked. "We're a bit of an unorthodox pair."

* * *

Why? Because what's a pokemon shorts collection without a little palletshipping?


	53. Egg Groups

_Steveaaml, (aka: THE SUGGESTION BEAST) – Pikachu is pregnant_, Roses from a "Secret Admirer" (Nothing involving Drew)_, first time sex_

__I CAN ONLY DO SO MUCH WITH THESE PROMPTS, SIR. I CAN ONLY DO SO MUCH.

* * *

"Pikachu is a boy."

"I think you'll find she's not."

Brock was rubbing the little mouse behind the ears with a little smirk on his face, while Pikachu _herself _seemed quite content to curl up in his lap. But that didn't make sense. Pikachu had to be a boy. He had _called _Pikachu a boy. Granted, it wasn't like Ash had ever checked. It never really crossed his mind to asked Nurse Joy to do a quick check of Pikachu's internal hardware. It never even occurred to him that the hardware _could _be internal. Apparently, it was pretty common for pokemon to have all their genitals inside, and the boy stuff only popped out for mating.

Ash felt he could have gone his whole life without this information.

He shook his head firmly. "I've called him...her...Pikachu a boy plenty of times. Pikachu never gets mad at me for it."

"Why would she?" Brock laughed. "It doesn't make a difference to them. It's not an insult to be called a girl or a boy, and that's assuming they even know the difference between us saying him and her. It's not like it makes a difference, Ash. The only time gender really matters is when you start breeding them."

Ash groaned, lowering his head into hands. "I wasn't trying to breed him! Her! I don't want Pikachu to have a bunch of babies! H-_she_ is my greatest battler! She's my best friend! I mean, I don't want to have to stop traveling so she can raise her babies, but I don't think I can just leave her behind, even with someone as great as you, Brock."

"It'll be okay, Ash. Just be patient." Brock handed Pikachu back to Ash, who eagerly curled up into her masters lap with a sleepy "cha". The younger boy smiled a little, running his hand over her back, his smile growing when she arched into his touch, and made a little growl that sounded almost like purring. It was comforting to know that Pikachu was still his Pikachu, girl or boy. He looked up to catch Brock with a wry smile. "After you walked in on her very first sexual encounter, I think you owe it to her to be a bit patient, don't you?"

Ash flushed. "I can't believe we walked in on-"

"No, no, don't pin this one on me!" Brock said, bursting into laughter. "_You_ were the one who heard weird noises and had to go investigate. _You_ were the one who wouldn't listen to me telling you that Pikachu was perfectly fine. It's all your fault that you walked in on her having sex with some random pokemon."

"How could you have known? She could have been fighting She could have been getting hurt!" Ash protested desperately. His hand stayed smooth on Pikachu's back through years of practice, and her and her ever rounding belly wasn't disturbed in the least by all the shouting. "I heard a roserade!"

Brock was nearly hysterical by this point. "Well, they _can _breed and-"

"Why can they breed? That doesn't even make sense!"

"It actually, does. You see, the genetics of-"

"I thought the roses she had been getting were from, like...I don't know! Maybe Drew was being creepy! He's been known to be creepy!"

That dried his laughter up. He gave Ash a very strange look. "He gave roses to May, Ash."

"He gave them to her pokemon."

"No, he-"

"He _said _he was. Maybe he really was and he was giving them as a sign of congrats! I did really well in that last gym battle!"

"How would Drew have seen that? And, even if he did, why would he care?"

Ash frowned. "Oh, like you can deny that it wasn't an amazing battle?"

"Ash, it was-!" Brock slapped his hands on his thighs and sighed, calming himself down. Ash was panicked, and nervous, and afraid he was about to lose his star battler. With a few deep breaths, he calmed down and attempted to explain, "Pikachu...she's not going to be able to battle for a few weeks. It doesn't take long for her to have an egg, and when she finally does, you'll have a little pichu, just one. You've handled baby pokemon before. You can take a few weeks off for her, can't you?"

"I...I guess I can train everyone else really hard, while we wait for her." Ash looked up, and Brock saw the boy blink back worried tears. "I'd do anything for her, Brock. Pikachu is my best friend."

Brock smiled, and looked down at Pikachu. "I know, Ash, and I think she does too."


	54. I Hate You

kelley Miley said, "Let's see, for a cliche, what about Ash and Gary as kids?"

And sperance asked for a "bolivian army ending"

"A Bolivian Army Ending occurs when the main characters face seemingly insurmountable odds which, for once, they fail to surmount, although their ultimate doom is sometimes left to the audience's imagination," says the TVTropes.

* * *

"I hate you."

"I know."

There really wasn't much else to say. After all, Ash supposed it was his fault that Gary now had a broken arm. He had been the one to push him off the roof. But, to be perfectly fair, he was six, and Gary could be quite the jerk. Gary was the one who had been teasing Ash for the better part of the afternoon. It had started with him challenging Ash to ride a fearrow, which, to everyone's shock but Ash's, he managed to do. Several of the neighborhood kids, older and younger than Ash and Gary, had been sitting on the sidelines, making bets about whether or not he could do it. Most leaned towards not, and it was mostly the younger, confused kids who were just out of diapers who voted for Ash.

It boosted his confidence that Gary hadn't voted against him. But Gary hadn't voted at all. This was because Gary wanted nothing to take away from the enjoyment of the moment when Ash was pecked in the face by an angry fearrow, and he got to haul Ash back to Professor Oak, who would fix Ash up, but always have a hint of a smile in the corner of his mouth that Gary assumed was him trying not to laugh at Ash's stupidity. In truth, the professor found Ash daring and charming. Gary wouldn't find that out for many, many years.

Ash had sat in the dirt, bare toes curling and uncurling in the earth as he waited for the fearrow to approach him. The fearrow, a large male, did so, cautiously, weaving back and forth across the yard, snapping his beak at the children at the fence whenever they grew too loud. all the kids fell silent as the bird leaned down to Ash, and the boy slowly reached up to pet him. Several let out gasps as the fearrow leaned into Ash's hand, closing its eyes slightly. Moving as slow as he could, Ashpushed to his feet, stroking down the fearrow's body, leaning against it, pushing the top half of his body on it, then swinging a leg over.

To say he was displeased with the development would be an understatement. The bird cried out in shock, flapping its wings madly, and Ash grabbed a fistful of feathers in either hand, right before he shot into the air. Gary let out a word that made many other kids gasp, giggle, and shriek, "I'm telling! I'm telling you said the s-word! I'm telling!" before he took off as best he could, keeping an eye on the fearrow above. Thankfully, it didn't seem to be flying to high, but it was moving fast. Gary couldn't keep up on foot.

He kicked a kid of his bicycle And pedaled as quick as he could. Even this was barely enough to keep up, but he continued on and on, wishing Ash had the sense to drop off now before he got to hurt instead of holding on and risking the bird going higher and dropping him from a height that could actually kill the idiot. He continued to swear and pant, collapsing to the ground with relief when he saw Ash nervously drop off the bird and land on the roof of Professor Oak's lab. He heard a shout, and saw Ash sit up after he landed, and raced off to get a ladder.

Within a few minutes he had found the ladder, set it against the wall, climbed it, and met up with Ash. After another few minutes, Gary discovered that Ash had only a couple of bumps and bruises, and he wasn't even bleeding. It wasn't even enough to make the boy cry, and Ash wasn't one to skim on the tears, especially since he wasn't in front of a bunch of boys he wanted to impress, but rather Gary, who Ash was quite sure thought he was a pathetic loser. Ash was not entirely sure why he hung out with Gary, especially considering his assumption of Gary's opinion of him.

"You...you're not even hurt!" Gary cried. "You're an idiot!"

"shut up!"

"You are! You're the biggest idiot in the whole world! You're such a loser, Ash, I can't believe you-"

Ash gave Gary a monumental shove, and the boy tumbled off the roof, landing on his arm with a scream followed by many tears. Ash scurried down the ladder, gasping and apologizing and saying things like, "I can get ice!" and "Are you okay?" and "Your arm looks like it has a lump in it." This lump was Gary's bone pushing against the skin, not that either boy knew it. Ash got ice, setting it against Gary's arm, which only made him scream and cry louder. After a few minutes, Gary managed to calm down and sniffle.

He looked furiously at Ash. "I hate you."

"I know."

But that wasn't important. What _was _important was that Oak could not see this. No parent could see this. The grounding they would face would be unbelievable. Both of them feared that they would not be allowed to be trainers in four years. So Ash dragged Gary behind the lab, which brought on a fresh stream of tears, and the two bunkered down, shaking and crying and all in all looking like they had been through a tragedy much greater than they experienced. That was when they heard it. The cry of an adult.

"Ash? Gary? The boys from town said you flew on a fearrow. What trick did you two pull?"

And Ash clapped a hand over Gary's mouth so the boy couldn't cry. He could see the longing in Gary's eyes, for it was Gary's mother who was calling. Their spot couldn't be revealed. Gary couldn't go running to the arms of his mother, not when some much was at stake. Ash whispered and begged, but tears began to fall down Gary's cheeks. soon, he pushed Ash's hand away, and Ash, knowing there was no chance to avoid the upcoming punishment, began to cry softly as well. Gary looked very seriously at Ash.

"I hate you," he said tearfully.

"I know," Ash responded, just as tearful.

And Gary, weeping, leaned around the barn and cried, "Mommy!"

* * *

Also, I've started a forum. I really wanted to make a place for, well, well written stories. I'd like people to be able to discuss their favorite characters and stories, give them a place to vent about stories they find to be overrated, just be a place to talk about how to write well.

I hope you all enjoy. It's here on fanfiction:

/forum/Well_Written_Stories/108341/


	55. To My Wonderful Readers

You have all been so kind to me over the years.

I don't know how to say thanks, really, to all the people who have read and reviewed my work. This fandom is what brought me up. This fandom got me interested in fanfiction. Then, all you wonderful people wrote brilliant stories that inspired me. You taught me how to write. Some of you consider me one of the best, or even the best writer the fandom has had. One of my stories was recommended on TVTropes. I can't express the amount of happiness that you have all given me.

However, I feel like my well of pokemon stories has run dry. The things I think of for these characters are, as this collection shows, cliched. In a way, this was kind of my death throes in keeping myself alive in the fandom, forcing myself to have new ideas. But, even here, I feel redundancy creeping into my work. I don't think I have anymore to give.

Once I finish Senior Year, I'll leave at my prime, rather than writing the same story over and over again. People are frustrated that Stephen King does it, aren't they?

So, thank you. Everyone. Not everyone who reviews or reads my stories reads this, and there are plenty of people who have read only this and have no idea how much time and thought I've put forth into this fandom. I gave it everything I could. I gave the characters the best stories I could. And now, I'll leave them before I do them injustice.

You made me who I am, my reviewers.

Thanks for the reviews.


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